


desperate words

by ohpoppycock



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter RPF
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Draco Malfoy Being Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Gryffindor Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Major Original Character(s), Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Drinking, reader is good at magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:08:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27117265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohpoppycock/pseuds/ohpoppycock
Summary: Draco watched, waiting for the tears or anger to cross your face. Maybe you would finally get out of his head. Instead, to his surprise, you laughed. You laughed and laughed and laughed and he realized once your eyes hit his own, they were finally cold. “That’s just my luck,” you smiled, but there was no warmth like there was before. “I have a bloody Malfoy for a soulmate.”And, not for the first time, it felt like cold water had been poured over him. As he watched you get up, move past him (careful to not touch), he felt like scum. He reached out, he wanted you to stop, to wait, he wanted to apologize, he felt it in his whole soul.You wrenched your arm out of his grasp. You were seething. To his dismay, he saw tears in your eyes.“Don’t fucking touch me, Malfoy.”
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 53
Kudos: 247





	1. Chapter 1

It started off as a curiosity.

Draco Malfoy didn’t care about his classmates. He couldn’t afford to. He had gotten used to it, to pushing everyone away with a sneer and an insult. That’s not to say he was lonely. He had Pansy, and he had Blaise, Theo, Crabbe, and Goyle. They were controllable, safe. They knew his secrets and he knew theirs. Safe.

The rest of Slytherin he held at arm's distance. He didn’t trust them, he didn’t care for them, but he wasn’t nearly as severe as he was with the other students at Hogwarts. He had been quieter, more subdued this year, but he was a far cry from kind. Draco was not a nice person, and everyone knew this.

Draco Malfoy did not care about his classmates.

Currently, he was in potions. This would have been his favorite class if he didn’t have to share it with fucking Gryffindors. Class hadn’t even started and yet they were being as loud as ever. He shot a look to Pansy, and she rolled her eyes. At least he didn’t have to suffer with these morons alone.

As soon as Slughorn walked in, the class quieted down and began taking out their materials. “Good evening, students.” Slughorn began. “We will carry on from yesterday. If done correctly, your Bulgeye Potions should be lavender by now, and-”

The dungeon door opened suddenly, and two Gryffindor students stood in the doorway, out of breath. As Draco looked them over, he realized that their robes were scuffed. The girl had a nasty bruise forming on the side of her face, but the boy looked relatively unscathed. . “Leave it to Gryffindor’s to be late,” Pansy remarked. “Did you get lost? Fall down a set of stairs, perhaps?”

The Slytherin side of the room snickered, and the Gryffindor boy’s face heated up. “Very sorry, Professor Slughorn.” He muttered. “We got into a bit of trouble. I apologize for our lateness.”

“You don’t need to apologize twice, Woodward. Sit down. Five points from Gryffindor for lateness.” The boy, Woodward, had a grip on the girl’s arm and dragged her to a desk in the back, across from Draco’s desk. Their fellow Gryffindors gave them dirty looks, not too happy to be docked points. “If you were any later, it would be a detention. Don’t let it happen again.”

“Of course, Professor. Won’t happen again.” Woodward shot a look at the girl next to him. “Right?” She nodded, but seemed to be holding back a laugh. Slughorn eyed them for a second longer, and then continued on with his instruction.

Draco pulled out his Potion’s book while Pansy grabbed the cauldron from the back cabinet. As expected, their potion was a perfect lavender color. He heard a snort from the table next to him, and eyed the very much not lavender colored potion in Woodward’s cauldron. “Perfect as always, Draco, my boy,” said Slughorn, who had been going up and down the aisle. “And what do we have here, Woodward?” The professor peered into their cauldron. Woodward looked even more embarrassed than before, but the girl next to him didn’t look concerned.

“I don’t know, Professor. We added the eel eyes like it said,” muttered Woodward. Draco swore he could see his brown hair turning red, too. The girl was reading over the potion instructions again, looking unbothered.

“And you?” Slughorn asked. The girl looked up. “Where do you think you went wrong?”

“Ah, I think we forgot to add in the counterclockwise stir.” She looked at Woodward, amused. “Entirely my fault, Professor. We’ll fix it.” The potion turned a pale yellow color.

Draco turned back to his own potion. Pansy was in charge of stirring, while Draco ground the snake scales into a power. “First they’re late, and then their potion turns to piss,” Draco said, loud enough for them to hear. “Gryffindors really are good for nothing, it seems.” Pansy snicked. Draco began adding the snake scales in slowly while she stirred. From his left he heard a loud bubbling sound.

“Hey, stop, this isn’t in the instructions!” Woodward whisper-yelled. More people were casting glances over at their table now. Slughron was busy critiquing a pair of Slytherins to notice the sounds coming from the back of the room.

“Trust me.” The girl was eyeing the potion as it gurgled dangerously. The heat was way too high. She was holding the powdered snake scales in a bowl above the potion, ready to pour them in. They were supposed to be added slowly, stirring counterclockwise, until the potion turned emerald green, signifying its completeness. Half the room stared in horror as the girl threw all of it in at once and quickly covered the cauldron with it’s lid. “Cover your ears.”

Not a moment after, Draco was startled by a loud  _ pop!  _ From their cauldron. Slughorn whipped around, and the class fell silent as he walked towards their table. “Now what have you done?” He chuckled, pulling off the lid. Woodward closed his eyes, looking like he wanted to die on the spot. However, the girl still didn’t look worried at all. As he opened the cauldron, Draco was surprised to see that the potion was a shiny, emerald green. 

Slughorn was silent for a second. “Well, you lot are full of surprises, aren’t you? Good work, I suppose. You’ll have to tell me how you did that. However, you disturbed the entire class. Detention.” They both groaned. “I expect you here as soon as your last class is finished.”

As he stalked away, Draco eyed the girl curiously. She giggled with Woodward as he lectured her quietly, and Draco found himself wanting to know her name.

He turned back to his potion.

  
  


\---

Draco completely forgot about the incident until later that day. He was making his way back to the Slytherin common room with Pansy and Blaise after dinner, when the Potion room door opened and out walked Woodward and the girl. “Finally out of detention, showoffs?” Sneered a Slytherin girl, Delilah Drakeley. “Can’t go one lesson without fucking something up.”

“Our potion was one of the best in the class, actually,” Woodward said evenly.

“What color was yours again, Drakeley?” The girl tapped her chin, acting as if she was trying to remember. “Orange, correct? How far away from green is that, Rickey?”

“Very,” said Woodward.

“You have a lot of nerve, Mudblood.” Drakeley sneered. She took a step, and suddenly tripped, falling flat on her face. Pansy started laughing, and Blaise made an amused grunt and nudged Theo, who had just come from Charms. However, Draco watched as Woodward hurried the girl away, casting a worried glance over his shoulder.

“Must have been a nonverbal Tripping Jinx,” Draco remarked to his friends. “Didn’t even see her lips move.” 

“Why were you looking at her lips, mate?” Blaise teased. Draco shot him a disgusted glare, and he relented. “There’s no way a fucking Mudblood managed that. Drakeley must have tripped. Wouldn’t put it past an oaf like her.”

They settled into conversation, and Draco forgot about her again.

\--

The Gryffindor common room was cozy. Old stone walls covered in gold and red tapestries, some with lions and some with swords, surrounded the area. There were staircases on either side leading to the dormitories, and in the middle a blazing fireplace. Tables and desks for doing schoolwork were towards the sides, littered with forgotten parchment and a couple broken quills. In the middle of the room, there were regal looking armchairs and plain red sofas on top of a pelt from a beast you didn’t know. You liked to sit by the fire and rub your feet on it, appreciating the softness.

The common room felt like home. The students working had settled into a rare quiet that you didn’t want to disturb. Rickey Woodward, however, didn’t seem to care about the quietness of the room. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Rickey yelled as you entered the common room. “In front of everyone? Are you a moron, Y/N?”

You had met Rickey in your first year History of Magic class. Rickey Woodward and you shouldn’t have gotten along at all, but somehow, you did. He followed the rules and chastised you when you broke them, but you loved the thrill that came with it. He had gotten used to your reckless behavior, and through that, dislodged the stick you thought was permanently up his ass.

He was still a stickler for some things, though.

You smiled apologetically to the fifth years who had been disturbed by his yelling. “Maybe a little bit,” you sighed. “I don’t regret it though. And will you quiet down? It’s late.”

“Maybe we wouldn’t have been late if you didn’t get us into bloody detention!” Rickey exclaimed, though he did lower his voice.

“What happened?” Parvati Patil asked from one of the sofas. She had a quill in her hand, and had been writing an essay, probably for Transfiguration. You walked over to the sofa to join her while Rickey followed you, still raving.

“First she gets into a fistfight with some seventh year from Slytherin, then she lands us in detention with Slughorn, and after she fucking jinxed Delilah Drakeley right outside of Potions!” He seethed. “Is that enough trouble for one day, or are you going to sneak out and cause more?”

“Y/N…” Parvati began. “Is it because-”

“Yes.” You snapped. Parvati’s eyes softened, and Rickey sat down in one of the arm chairs, looking deflated. 

Parvati laid a hand on your shoulder. “You can’t fight everyone who says it, you know. You’d have to take on all of Slytherin.”

“She seems determined to do that,” Rickey remarked, but his voice lacked venom. He didn’t seem to be mad at you anymore.

“I know.” You sighed. “I’m sorry, Rickey. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble. If it helps, I don’t think that seventh year will say anything. Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be to admit a Muggleborn landed a blow on a pureblood Slytherin?”

Parvati giggled and Rickey finally smiled at you. “Apology accepted.” He said kindly. “It was pretty funny to watch Drakeley eat shit, though.”

The three of you began working on your homework, later joined by your friend Lacey Abbet. Your hands still ached from scrubbing cauldrons all night, so you retired early and headed up to your dorm room, telling your friends you’d work on the essay Slughorn wanted later. You  _ were  _ tired, but really, you just needed a moment alone. As you got into bed, you pulled the curtains closed on your four-poster bed and rolled up your sleeve. You lit the end of your wand wordlessly and stared.

You remembered on your first day at Hogwarts, Parvati and Lacey had been talking about their words. The first words your soulmate would ever say to you were written somewhere on your skin, and most people were ecstatic about their words, desperate to meet their soulmate as soon as possible. 

Soulmates were your other half, the person you were meant to be with. Meeting them was supposed to make everything in your chest slot into place, and touching them was supposed to feel like fireworks. Growing up, kids around you had chattered constantly about what their soulmates would tell them, and it made you feel left out.

Because you had never liked yours. You didn’t know what they meant, and neither did your parents, but you could tell they weren’t nice.

“These are mine,” said Lacey, lifting up her robes to show the words above her knee. They said ‘You promise you’re not a Hufflepuff?’ in looping script. “I guess I know what house I won’t be in.”

“Mine are on my ribs. They say ‘Bloody hell, is that your third plate?’. Not exactly the best thing to hear,” Parvati had laughed. “What are yours, Y/N? If you don’t mind my asking.”

You didn’t particularly want to show them, but they could probably tell you what it meant. So you lifted your sleeve on your right arm. “I’m not exactly sure what it means,” you said sheepishly.

‘Do you not know how to speak, you filthy Mudblood?’

Lacey recoiled like she had been slapped, and Parvati cringed. You quickly pulled your sleeve back down. “What does it mean?” 

As they told you, you frowned at the contrast between the ugly words and the elegant script they were written in.


	2. Chapter 2

Rickey was only joking about you sneaking out, but when you were unable to fall asleep, that's exactly what you did. You were careful not to wake the other in the room with you and made your way into the common room. Thankfully, no one was there, so you were able to slip out of the portrait hole with ease.

Walking around Hogwarts at night always helped clear your head, and the adrenaline rush you got from sneaking out always helped chase away your problems. The corridors were quiet and serene, the moonlight falling through the windows creating patches of soft light to guide your feet. You always found yourself wandering to the Astronomy Tower. You liked to watch the sky, and sometimes you’d stay till sunrise. You’ve never gotten caught, strangely.

Not that you wanted to. Filch was a mean bastard, and he made you uncomfortable. His cat would have been cute if she wasn’t a fucking snitch.

As you made you way up the stairs, you could have sworn you heard crying. You went up the steps faster. You froze for a second outside the door as the footsteps approached, then stopped. There could be a teacher up there, you realized. Your heart was racing, and you quietly took a couple steps back, down the stairwell, away from the door. You might be brave, but you didn’t want to get caught after hours.

The door swung open, and there stood Draco Malfoy.

You’d never spoken to him, but you knew who he was. He was a dick, always picking on younger students, especially if they were Muggleborn. He was in your Potions class, and while his bigotted remarks had lessened this year, he had still been teasing Rickey today. But as much as you didn’t like him, you also had a gut feeling that you should stay off this bloke’s radar. You had heard the things he said, the rumors whispered throughout Gryffindor. Harry Potter didn’t like him at all, and while you had only had brief conversations with him, you had trusted his judgment.

Draco’s eyes were dark, but you swore you could see some wetness in them. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. “Can you smell them, my sweet?” you heard Filtch say. Without thinking about it, you pushed Draco back and silently shut the door. He turned on you angrily and you shot your hand out, covering his mouth. You could see an angry vein popping out of his neck, and you put a single finger to your lips. Draco whipped his head away from your hand, but stayed silent. 

You made a _follow me_ gesture and went to the railing, climbing on the small ledge on the pillars outside. Draco looked at you like you were mad, but you took your wand and wordlessly cast a spell that made the back of your nightshirt stick to the pillar wall. Draco hesitated for a second, but eventually climbed onto the other ledge and glared down at the ground.

As you heard the door open, you looked over to see that he was scared. He played Quidditch, right? Last year. You never really attended too many games, but your classmates never seemed to shut up about the matches. He shouldn’t be scared of heights. 

In the moonlight, his blonde hair looked silver, and his pale skin seemed to glow. You found yourself wondering what color his eyes were. You had never noticed.

“Where are they, Mrs. Norris?” Filch said. You heard a raspy meow. “Are they hiding from me?”

You were starting to shiver. Filch and Mrs. Norris were moving around the room, taking their time. You peeked over at Draco, who had his eyes closed. “ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” you whispered, pointing your wand towards the sky so the light wouldn’t alert Filch. A sleek cat moved silently out of your wand, going through a window on the top floor of the tower. A crash came from above, and you waved your wand to dismiss your Patronus. 

This wasn’t the first time you had almost gotten caught, and by now, you knew what to do.

“There they are!” Filch said happily, moving up the second set of stairs with his cat. You hastily undid the spell sticking you to the tower and climbed back in. With steady, silent footsteps, you moved out of the tower as fast as you could. You didn’t check to see if Draco had followed you.

Back in your bed, you found yourself hoping he was alright.

\--

The rest of September passed quickly, and Draco didn’t run into you until October.

For some reason he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He was bothered that he didn’t know your name, and that you had probably heard him crying. That’s all it was, he told himself. Nothing more.

It wasn’t because he couldn’t stop thinking about how soft your hand was against his face, or because of your unfortunately impressive ability for using non-verbal spells, or the mischief glittering in your eyes as you stood on the edge of the pillar. It wasn’t the way you looked in the soft light that came from the Patronus you cast, and it definitely wasn’t because you had left him there.

He did get away, of course, but he was still a little miffed by the last part.

And even as he stressed about his own task, you still wandered into his mind from time to time. It was annoying. He only had Potions with you, thankfully. You seemed to get into trouble a lot, but somehow ended up making potions that were on par with his own. And despite you being loud and quite frankly obnoxious, he didn’t remember ever hearing or seeing you in his time at Hogwarts outside of Potions.

“She does half of the shit wrong!” Pansy fumed quietly, flipping through her Transfiguration textbook. Draco, Blaise, and Pansy were all in the library doing homework, because the common room had been far too crowded. “I bet she’s cheating. Or maybe she’s sleeping with Slughorn for an A.”

Blaise choked out a laugh, and Draco made a disgusted face. “I didn’t need that in my mind, Pansy. Thank you.” Pansy giggled and apologized, though he doubted that she meant it. “I wouldn’t put it past that oaf to sleep with a student, though,” he added. Blaise and Pansy snickered, but Madam Pince shot them a dirty look. 

They had been working in silence for a while until Pansy cursed under her breath. “Draco, can you go grab me a copy of the Advanced Transfiguration textbook? Someone scribbled over part of mine.”

“You can get it yourself,” Draco muttered, but got up nonetheless. As he was looking through the books, he saw that his hands were shaking. They seemed to always be doing that now. He guessed it was from the constant stress of his tasks. He should probably be working on the Cabinet more often, but he was also trying to find ways to kill Dumbledore that didn’t involve Draco directly.

In his head, Draco could admit that he was a coward. Thinking about actually _killing_ Dumbledore made his chest feel tight and broken. And that was a cowards reaction.

Lost in thought (or maybe it was his trembling hands), he dropped the Transfiguration book he had just grabbed. Before it could hit the floor, a hand reached out and caught it. He didn’t know how _you_ had managed to sneak up on him, but you held the book you caught up to him. You looked apprehensive, but kind. He took the book and was about to make some remark about not wanting a book touched by someone with such filthy, filthy blood, but the words didn’t come.

You put a finger up to your lips, just like you did in the Astronomy Tower, amusement dancing in your eyes. Without a word, you turned and began walking back to the table you had come from.

* * *

Draco saw you in the library a lot.

Sometimes you were with Patil or Woodward, and sometimes a blonde girl he didn’t know the name of. It’s not like he would seek you out or anything. He’s started coming to the library more often, usually alone, looking for ways to do what he has to do. He still had time, technically, but he needed to have something done by Christmas break.

He couldn’t disappoint.

When you were here, sometimes he’d make eye contact while looking at you. At first you would raise an eyebrow, look at him questioningly. He had seen you talking to Potter and his pals, and he wondered how much you knew about him. 

Now, though, when you made eye contact, you gave him a friendly smile. Draco wouldn’t return it, of course. He would go back to whatever he was reading and try to focus on the words, not the warmth he saw on your face. He didn’t like you, and you didn’t like him either. But you looked… welcoming. He was surprised you weren’t a Hufflepuff with that kind of attitude.

It was in Potions when he finally learned your name. Somehow, in all the time he’s been aware of your existence (which, admittedly, wasn’t long), he didn’t know it. 

Draco had been in the middle of writing his notes when the door opened, revealing McGonagall in the doorway. Her lips were pressed into a fine line. “Professor Slughorn, could I please borrow Y/N Y/L/N?”

All eyes went to you. You blinked up at McGonagall.

“I suppose that’s alright, she’ll just have to copy the notes later. I leave that to you, Woodward.” Slughorn said jovially, eyeing you with curiosity. Woodward looked at you in confusion, and you just shrugged.

“Pack up your things, Miss Y/L/N.” McGonagall clasped her hands together, waiting. You gathered your things and left in a rush. 

Slughorn began the lesson again, and Pansy elbowed Draco in the side. “Want to know what I did?” she said, grinning. “I told McGonagall she had been hexing people non-verbally, like you said, and I told her she got me.” She lifted her sleeve, revealing still healing boils. “I had that fourth year with the shaved head do it for me. Maybe a couple weeks of detention will finally knock that bitch down a couple pegs.”

“Quiet down, Parkinson.” Slughorn sighed. 

“Yes sir.” Pansy said, still entirely too pleased with herself. Draco was glad Slughorn had interrupted, because he wasn’t sure how to respond.

* * *

You had been surprised when McGonagall had asked for you, and she didn’t seem very happy at all. You were barely able to tell Rickey that you didn’t know what was going on before you were walking down the halls with your Head of House.

“Professor?” You asked. She didn’t respond, and for the rest of the way to her office, you were quiet.

McGonagall’s office was small, overlooking the Quidditch pitch below. There was a welcoming fire burning in a fireplace similar to the one in the Gryffindor common room, and strewn about her room were various magical knick-knacks. You managed to stifle a smile when you saw the scratching post that had been gifted to her by the Weasley twins, pleasantly surprised that she hadn’t thrown it out.

“Take a seat, Y/N.” McGonagall sighed, breaking you out of your thoughts. You sat down in the chair opposite of her desk, putting your book bag on your lap and nervously fidgeting with the straps. “Do you know why I called you in?”

“No,” you said honestly.

She looked at you for a second before she began. “Parkinson told me that her and Malfoy saw you casting some non-verbal spells at other students.” She took off her glasses and folded them on the table. “I thought it was agreed that it wouldn’t happen anymore.”

“Students? Like students plural?” You said dumbly, before you realized your mistake. McGonagall raised a thin eyebrow. “I only did it once.”

“Miss Parkinson had boils on her arm.”

“That wasn’t me.” You slumped back in your seat. “Though, I kind of wish it was,” you muttered. “I only jinxed Delilah Drakeley, I swear. She called me a, you know, and made a move towards Rickey and I--I was tired. We just had detention. I wasn’t thinking.”

McGonagall sat with her hands folded over her desk, studying you. “Are you saying Parkinson is lying? A Prefect?”

“I have no idea. I know it wasn’t me who hexed her, but I know she isn’t really that fond of me,” you sighed. “I haven’t really done anything to her, honest.”

“But you _did_ cast a spell on Miss Drakeley.”

“Yes,” you responded glumly.

“I didn’t teach you how to do non-verbal magic so you could abuse it, Y/N.” McGonagall scolded. “After last year, I would have thought you learned your lesson.” 

“I’m sorry, Professor.” 

She let out a deep sigh. “I can’t let you get away with this unpunished. Even if non-verbal magic is a very useful skill, and punishing you for a skill that is remarkably honed for someone your age is something I’d rather not do, I have to. You’ll be doing Saturday detention for three weeks with Slughorn.”

You groaned. That meant scrubbing cauldrons for hours. “I didn’t even use my wand,” you remarked, mainly to yourself. 

“You didn’t?” McGonagall asked.

“Nope.”

You were too busy staring at the ceiling to notice the proud look that crossed her face. “Two weeks,” she announced, and you perked up. “But I better not hear of you doing this again.”

  
“Yes, Professor.” You said, smiling. She dismissed you, and you didn’t miss the implication that she was proud of you and, as long as you didn’t get _caught,_ she wouldn’t interfere. You walked happily to your next class. You might have detention for two Saturdays in a row, but you had actually _impressed_ a teacher for once, and that made you feel much better about your day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's chapter 2! updates should come every other day, and if not, at least bi-weekly. let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

It was Friday, and you were walking back to your common room after dinner when you heard crying. As you turned the corner into the next corridor, you saw a group of older kids bullying what looked like a first or second year. All of the kids were from Slytherin, and you suppose you shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Imagine having  _ that  _ written on your  _ face _ .” A pretty girl with dark eyes sneered. Two other girls, one with curly blonde hair and the other with long black hair in braids, laughed along with her.

“You tried to cover it with makeup, didn’t you?” The one with braids grabbed her face and rubbed her thumb against her cheek harshly. From your distance you couldn’t see what they said, but you could see the tears on her face.

You stopped next to the group of girls. The youngest one looked up at you in fear. She had ‘Get out of my way, bitch’ written on her cheekbone. You smiled reassuringly at her. “What do you want, Mudblood?” Said the curly haired blonde. She looked disgusted with you.

“I want you to back off.” You said simply. 

The girls laughed at that. “Or what?” the girl with dark eyes taunted. “You’re outnumbered.”

You leaned in, studying her face. “Hey, you’ve got a pimple.” Confused, she touched her chin. Suddenly, hundreds of pimples began forming on her face. Her friends cried out and she patted her face in horror. 

“You jinxed her!” Cried the one with braids, furiously pulling her wand you you.

“Me? Jinx her?” You frowned. “I didn’t say a word!”

“Then you performed a non-verbal spell!” Accused the one with the curly blonde hair.

“My hands have been on my bag strap this whole time,” you said innocently. “You really think a Muggleborn like me could perform a non-verbal spell  _ without  _ a wand? I’m flattered, really.”

“Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey,” the blonde whispered, shooting you a dirty look before ushering her friend away. 

Once they were gone, you couched down so you could look up at the girl. “What’s your name?”

“Emily.” She stated.

“Nice to meet you, Emily.” You stuck out your hand. “I’m Y/N.”

She shook your hand timidly, squeaking out a “thank you”.

“It’s no problem.” You smiled. “Are they mean to you a lot?” She nodded tearfully.

“I feel like I have the worst soulmate words ever,” she sniffled, wiping her tears with her sleeve. “I try to cover them, but the makeup comes off and everyone sees.”

You looked around the corridor, and saw that no one was close. “I’m going to show you a secret,” you whispered. You lifted your sleeve so she could read the words on your forearm. She let out a gasp. “I think mine are worse,” you joked.

Emily was still looking at you, her eyes watery. You could see the pity in her eyes and you hated it. So instead, you asked to see the makeup she used and cast a spell so only she could wipe it off, no one else. “But don’t tell anyone,” you murmured. “Then everyone will be asking me to do that. And keep the words a secret, too.” She nodded, excited, finally looking happy.

After you sent her off to class, you looked up to see none other than Draco Malfoy watching you. He was too far to see your words, thankfully, but he still probably saw that you did do magic on the girls from before. You looked at him, daring him to tell.

Instead he lifted a finger to his mouth, smirking to himself.

Detention with Slughorn later that evening was terrible.

Slughorn himself was better than Snape had been, but only by a degree. He was less cold, but still exhausting to be around. You had been scrubbing cauldrons for an hour already, and your hands were cramping. Before then, you had sorted ingredients for another hour. If you had to do the same shit next week, you think you would rather take a swan dive off the Astronomy Tower. It didn’t help that you were entirely too lost in your own head to clean properly.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Draco fucking Malfoy. You didn’t fancy him, no. He was driving you mad because you didn’t understand half the shit he did. For one, he was crying in the tower, which you never expected. You would have sooner found Snape himself crying than Draco. Secondly, the eye contact in the library. Even though he was the one staring, he would purse his lips and look away every time you gave him a friendly smile. Then he was  _ joking  _ with you in the corridor after he saw you jinx someone, despite turning you in before. 

Draco Malfoy was confusing you, and you wanted to talk to him about it.

“Y/L/N,” Slughorn sighed loudly. “You seem distracted. Must I call you in for another detention so you have time to finish your work?”

“No, Professor.” You answered. You pushed Draco out of your mind… Only for him to pop back in five minutes later. You let out a frustrated sigh and scrubbed the bottom of a cauldron with more force than needed. It smelled like broccoli. You didn’t like it.

After what felt like an eternity, Slughorn finally dismissed you. “Have a good night, Professor,” you said as you left.He gave you a dismissive grunt in return..

While staring down at your raw hands, you bumped into someone. You looked up and smiled. It was Draco.

\--

Draco’s day had been entirely horrible. After Potions, he found himself  _ worrying  _ about you. You, the Muggleborn Gryffindor, who was unremarkable and plain. He had enough things to worry about, thank you very much. You were not someone, some _ thing  _ that deserved his worry.

A small voice in the back of his head spoke of soulmates and he crushed it.

Draco has always hated the words on his arm. When he was a kid, he was hurt by them. He showed his parents tearfully, and they told him that, no matter what, a soulmate would love him. That’s what they did. He still carried the belief that his soulmate, whoever they were, would hate him.

In his first year, someone had seen his words, and mocked him relentlessly. “Even your soulmate doesn’t want you, Malfoy.” He sneered. Draco had imagined him dying a painful death and it helped, but only a little bit. From then on, he always made sure it was covered. When he was swimming, he would wrap enchanted bandages on his arm so that no one but him could take them off.

He decided he didn’t need a soulmate. Didn’t want them. So he covered them with the mark of the Dark Lord, pledging his future to him rather than his supposed soulmate. When the words simply moved to the other arm, he considered tearing it off. 

He didn’t, though.

Draco decided that whatever had caught his interest, whatever about you he felt drawn to, he had to break. He considered himself fairly good at breaking people now. He tried to ignore the way that made his gut churn.

Later, at dinner, he had gotten a letter from home. Before, he would have been happy to hear from his parents. Now, though, he felt nothing but dread. 

_ I hope you have made some progress, Draco, For your sake.  _

The Cabinet had been so, so difficult, and he had made absolutely fuckall progress so far. His hands shook as he folded up the letter and tucked it in his pocket. Pansy gripped his shoulder and he shoved it off. “I’ve lost my appetite.” He announced coldly, leaving the table. No one called after him.

Draco had been aimlessly wandering the corridors when he bumped into someone. They fell to the floor and looked up at him. It was you, and you smiled at him. He felt butterflies in his stomach. He hated himself.

When you didn’t say anything, he snapped. “Do you not know how to speak, you filthy Mudblood?”

Draco watched, waiting for the tears or anger to cross your face. Maybe you would finally get out of his head. Instead, to his surprise, you laughed. You laughed and laughed and laughed and he realized once your eyes hit his own, they were finally cold. “That’s just my luck,” you smiled, but there was no warmth like there was before. “I have a bloody  _ Malfoy  _ for a soulmate.”

And, not for the first time, it felt like cold water had been poured over him. As he watched you get up, move past him (careful to not touch), he felt like scum. He reached out, he wanted you to stop, to wait, he wanted to apologize, he felt it in his whole  _ soul _ .

You wrenched your arm out of his grasp. You were seething. To his dismay, he saw tears in your eyes. 

“ _ Don’t fucking touch me, Malfoy. _ ”

\-- 

You had held back your tears until you stepped into the common room. “Hey, Y/N,” Rickey waved lazily at you, not looking up from his history book. “How was Slughorn?”

“Fun as always.” You tried to make your voice steady, but it came out small and shaky. Rickey looked up, and the concern on his face was such a far cry from the cold expression on Draco’s face (your soulmate’s face, your soulmate hated you) that you began to openly sob.

Rickey had no idea what to do, so he just held you as you cried. At some point, Parvati wandered down to the common room, and immediately upon seeing you cooed and rushed over. You were transferred to her lap, instead, and she rubbed your back and let you shake in her arms. “Rickey, will you go grab Lacey? She's in the library.” Rickey seemed relieved that he was able to do something, and left in a hurry.

At some point you stopped crying, but she still held you. By the time Lacey and Rickey were back, you were all huddled close to the fire and you had a blanket wrapped around you. Lavender Brown, who you were friends with through Parvati, had brought you some chocolates she had gotten from Hogsmeade before going up to her room, giving you all privacy,

“I met my soulmate.” You announced. No one congratulated you. They knew your words.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Parvati sighed, rubbing your back.

“I knew this day was coming, though.” You sniffled. “I didn’t, I didn’t think it would hurt this bad. I mean, I’ve had these words for years. Why do I feel so shitty?”

“Because they’re your soulmate, darling.” Lacey murmured. “What did you say to him?”

“I-” you hesitated. You didn’t want to tell them who it was. “I said that it was just my luck to have someone like him for a soulmate.”

“I bet he’s hurting too,” Rickey remarked. The three girls shot glares at him and he put his hands up in defense. “Look, I’m not defending him. I’m just saying that you feel this badly because  _ he’s  _ hurt too, which I think is deserved, but that’s-that’s how I would feel. I think. I’m assuming you don’t want us to know who he is?”

“No,” you replied quickly. 

“Okay, That’s fine. Just know that I would  _ love  _ to break a few of his bones.” Rickey patted you on the shoulder. “I know I get on you for breaking rules, but I’m willing to do that.”

You gave him a shaky smile and a thank you. “I’m going to go for a walk,” you stood. 

“It’s almost curfew,” Rickey protested.

“I’ll be careful,” you reassured him. “Don’t wait up for me.”

As you slipped through the portrait hole, your feet began carrying you to the Astronomy Tower. You needed some space to think. And maybe cry. Hex a leaf or something to make you feel better.

However, when you opened the Astronomy Tower door, you wanted to turn back around and head straight to your bed. There, sitting on the edge of the tower, was Draco Malfoy. He was shaking, and you could hear his strangled voice. As badly as you wanted to  _ run,  _ to get the  _ fuck away from him, _ you knew you couldn’t.

_ “I bet he’s hurting too.” _

Instead, you sat a couple feet from him. You didn’t say anything, and neither did he. If he knew you were there, he didn’t acknowledge your presence. He just started to shake more.

_ “I’m just saying that you feel this badly because he’s hurt too.” _

Not knowing what to say, you put a hand on his shoulder. He was cold to the touch, but the feeling of touching him sent warmth all throughout your body. You felt his rage, his sadness, his hurt, his hopelessness. You felt the sting of your own words. For a split second, all you wanted to do was wrap this boy in your arms and hold him tight, protect him, never let  _ anyone  _ hurt him-

He swatted your hand off, and the moment was over. 

“Right.” You cleared your throat. “Wouldn’t want a filthy Mudblood touching you, Malfoy?”

You turned and left, closing the door quietly even though you wanted to slam it. You didn’t hear the soft, shaky ‘I’m sorry’ that came from his lips after you left. 


	4. Chapter 4

October bled into September, and you didn’t seek out Draco again. You stayed away from the tower, keeping yourself busy with schoolwork. You ignored him in Potions, refusing to even look his way. Rickey thankfully didn’t notice anything different between the two of you, and for a while, things were okay. Except they  _ weren’t.  _

You were more snappy with your friends, you got frustrated with schoolwork that used to come easy to you, and to top it all off, your hands kept shaking. There was a constant tremor in them no matter what you did, and when you had asked Lacey about it, she patted your shoulder and told you that it was probably coming from your soulmate. 

“Maybe you should talk to him,” Lacey said. “It might make you feel better.” You nodded and told her that yeah, maybe you would. Both of you knew that wasn’t going to happen, though, and she didn’t bring it up again.

The week got worse as time went on, and by the time the weekend had finally come around, you were at the end of your rope. You spent most of Saturday catching up on homework you had been too frustrated to complete during the week, only talking to your friends during meals. 

“Hey, Y/N, why do your hands keep shaking?” Rickey asked during breakfast on Sunday morning. You had been trying to spoon cereal into your mouth, but the tremor in your hands had been making it difficult. “Are you- do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?”

“I’m fine,” you snapped, grabbing some bread and tearing into it with more aggression than necessary. Rickey sent an alarmed glance to Parvati, which only fueled the anger that had been building all morning. “Will you lot stop it already? I’m  _ fine. _ “ 

“He’s just trying to help, Y/N.” Lacey said. She put a placating hand on your shoulder. “We’ve been worried about you all week, especially after what happened with your soulmate.”

You slapped her hand away. “I don’t want to talk about it, I already told you that!” You yelled, and you saw the hurt on her face and the curious looks from the tables next to you. You stood abruptly, still angry but feeling guilty now as well, and straightened your robes. “I’m going to go back to my room. Charms essay,” you lied. Before Parvati, who was in your Charms class, could call you out, you turned and left the dining hall.

You didn’t see the tired grey eyes that followed you out.

You didn’t go back to the dormitory. A conversation with Parvati and Lacey was not something you wanted to have right now. You walked, unsure of where your feet were taking you, until you reached a muddy shore littered with rocks and realized you had come to the Black Lake.

The Astronomy Tower was off limits in your mind, now. First Draco ruined Potions, one of your favorite classes, and now he had managed to take away the place you found refuge. You picked up a rock and threw it at the dark water. When that didn’t make you feel any better, you sat down on the shore and just looked into the water.

You thought about your parents and found yourself desperately wanting to see them. This year was one of the first years you had started being yourself, and now that stupid blond had taken it away from you. Winter break was a ways away, you remembered glumly. You could write your parents a letter, but that wouldn’t help with your relationship issues.

Internally, you cringed. You didn’t  _ have  _ a relationship. They were… soulmate issues. 

You remembered your mother talking to you about your father when they were younger, and how he hadn’t liked her at all even after they found out they were soulmates. “It had taken a particularly wild university party to get him to come to his senses,” your mom had teased, smacking your slightly embarrassed looking father on the shoulder. 

“I don’t regret it for a second,” your father had smiled, sending your mother a look so tender it made the ten year old you want to throw up. 

_ At least her soulmate wasn’t a bigot, _ you thought ruefully. Maybe they could make you feel better, though. You stood and dusted off your robe. It was much later in the day, and if you wanted to write them and send it off with a school owl before curfew, you had to hurry. 

You had just barely made it to your dorm room when the door had slammed open. You dropped your parchment and quill, turning to see an angry looking Parvati in the doorway. “There you are,” she huffed. “I’ve been looking for you all day.”

“I went down to the lake,” you told her. She studied you for a moment, her dark eyes scanning over your face. She did this often, as if she was trying to ask you something without saying a word.

“You know you shouldn’t be alone.” Parvat said. “Not after Katie.”

After what had happened to Katie Bell during the Hogsmeade trip, many students didn’t feel comfortable being alone. You had heard rumors about what had happened to the seventh year, but no one knew all of the details. You had never been close with her, but Parvati had known her through mutual friends, and she hadn’t taken it well. “I know,” you murmured.

Parvati sat down on her bed and patted the area to her left. You left your paper on your bed and joined her. “I heard Harry saying he thought it was Malfoy,” she began. Your throat went dry immediately, and the tremor in your hands worsened. You buried them in your lap so she wouldn’t see. “He wasn’t there, though. At Hogsmeade.” 

You didn’t say anything for a while. Part of you was relieved, but a voice in the back of your head was nagging at you to ask Draco about it. You stopped that train of thought immediately. The idea of talking to him made bile rise in your throat. Not only would Draco shut you down immediately, but you knew it was best for you to keep your distance. You knew his family didn't look at Mudbloods too kindly, and You Know Who wasn't fond of wizards and witches like you, either. If his family was still aligned with the Dark Lord, you'd rather not paint a target on your back. “I don’t trust him,” you said finally.

“No one does. And for good reason,” Parvati scoffed. “Not just because he’s a Slytherin. His whole family is shady, and with all this He Who Must Not Be Named stuff happening… I don’t like him.”

“He’s been less of a dick this year. Still a total prat,” you added, not wanting to sound like you were defending him. “I haven’t seen him bullying any younger students recently, though.”

“I suppose he hasn’t.”

You and Parvati fell into an uncomfortable silence until Lavender Brown joined you two, and you excused yourself to go write to your parents. Once you had sat down in the common room to write, you realized you didn’t even know where to start.

* * *

Your plans to keep your distance were short lived, apparently, because the following Monday, you and Draco finally spoke again.

You had been feeling much better after writing out all your feelings. Unlike your peers, your parents didn’t know much about Draco, as you had never mentioned him before. You could write about him without worrying about your fellow housemates and what they would think. You had finally found your place this year, and you weren’t going to ruin it because you were bound to the school’s most hated student.

When you arrived at Potions, you were surprised to see Rickey sitting next to Pansy Parkinson. Both of them looked extremely unhappy with this arrangement. “Change of seats for today,” Rickey told you when he saw you. “You’re with-”

“Over here, Y/L/N.”

Your bad luck never ran out, it seems.

Draco was completely still, the only movement coming from his fingers drumming impatiently on the desk. You slowly made your way over to the desk, your heart dropping to your stomach and hammering at the same time. Draco stared at you, expressionless. When your eyes met, a shot of adrenaline fired through your system. You looked away and sat down stiffly.

“Welcome, class,” Slughorn boomed. “I hope you all had a restful weekend.” When the students in his class didn’t respond, he continued hastily. “You might be wondering why I’ve sat you lot with new people. Today we’re going to be making a very difficult potion, and I don’t expect anyone to get it perfectly the first time. However, I want you to get used to working with people you aren’t used to in preparation for your future. You never know who you might have to work with!” 

A few students groaned at this and he just chuckled in response. “You have one hour.”

At first, neither you or Draco moved. “I’ll grab the cauldron,” he muttered. You nodded and pulled out your textbook, flipping to the correct page. You were brewing the Draught of Living Death, a powerful sleeping potion. You had already looked over this page, you remembered, back in your fifth year. 

You had spent a lot of time reading books instead of hanging out with your peers, and you enjoyed reading the higher level books about classes you were going to take the following year. When you had been looking through an Advanced Potion-Making textbook when you saw little notes scribbled in the margins, and you soaked up the information gleefully. Snape had always disliked your house, so getting a head start for his class next year might save you from his wrath. You got Slughorn instead, so the extra work might not have been worth it.

Working with Draco had been going… okay. The two of you only spoke when it was asking for the next ingredient or reading off instructions. You were in charge of stirring, and Draco hadn’t been paying enough attention to realize you had added a clockwise stir after the seven counterclockwise stirs like you read in the previous textbook. However, when you got to the fifth step, that’s when all hell broke loose.

“Slice the Sopophorous bean and add the juice to the brew,” Draco read out loud, mostly to himself. “Easy enough.”

“Oh, uh,” you interjected, feeling strangely nervous. “You should crush the bean with the blade instead. When you crush it, there’s more juice.” You could feel his eyes on you, but you kept looking down at your reflection in the potion, which was a deep purple color.

“I’ll stick to the instructions, thank you,” he sneered.

“Will you just trust me?” 

“Why would I do that?” Draco snapped. “Last time you got creative, you and Woodward landed in detention.”

“This is different this time!” You argued. Draco just rolled his eyes. “Oh for the love of god,” you sighed, exasperated. You reached out with one hand to stop him, and the other continued stirring slowly. “Here, you stir, and I’ll-”

He bumped his shoulder forcefully into yours to push you away, but you lost balance began to fall. Your hand that had been stirring the potion with the stick had pulled it down with you, and you watched in slow motion as the Draught of Living Death poured over you.

It felt like you had been doused in liquid fire. You screamed, pulling your injured arm to your chest, which only made the pain worse. Your entire side had been hit with the potion, your arm especially damaged, and hot tears began to roll over your cheeks. The burning subsided, and in your delirious state you wondered if s omeone cast a spell to clean up the potion. The damage was done, however. Your uninjured arm was being slung around someone’s shoulder. There was yelling, but you promptly lost consciousness before anything else could register.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: vomit, mild body horror, very slight suicidal thoughts

Draco wondered if the other students had realized how far he had fallen from his normal self. He went from a sneering, dangerous, self-proclaimed Prince of Slytherin to having a panic attack in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom over a Muggleborn he barely knew.

That’s not to say Draco Malfoy was a stranger to panic attacks. This year especially had caused many, though he used to panic over more important things. The well being of his family, the Dark Lord in his home, the never ending torturing he was exposed to (on both ends, of course), the things he had to do this year… all of these things he considered worthy of his anxiety. These things would be draining even for someone much braver than a coward like himself.

He had managed to keep it together during the scathing words Slughorn sent his way after class (“Imagine if the potion was complete,” Slughorn seethed. “What if that girl never woke up again?”), and for the meeting with Snape and McGonagall. He was suddenly very, very glad for the Occlumency lessons his Aunt Belatrix had given him, because every time he made eye contact with Snape, he could feel the persistent feeling that his head of house was trying to probe his mind.

McGonagall looked like she was seconds away from flying over the desk in Snape’s office and throttling him. For a second, Draco almost wished she would.

“I am aware that Draco is your student, Severus,” McGonagall had hissed. “But I would like an ample punishment for this behavior. Rough-housing in Potions, from a Prefect! Absolutely ridiculous.”

“I agree completely, Minerva.” Snape conceded. “I will make sure that this…  _ behavior  _ doesn’t happen again.” After McGonagall had left with one more loaded glance at Snape, he had chewed Draco’s ear off. Thinly veiled threats of telling the Dark Lord of his foolishness were only tamed when Draco reminded him that you were a Mudblood, and that he was doing the world a favor by letting things like you burn.

He tried to ignore the bile that rose in his throat when he said that.  _ Appearances, appearances,  _ he reminded himself. If he couldn’t lie to Snape, how would he lie to the Dark Lord?

“Minerva was crying for expulsion, Draco. Albus refused. You’re lucky he likes you, boy.” Draco again felt his stomach turn. He wondered how much Dumbledore would like him if he knew Draco was actively trying to kill him.

Draco unloaded yet another round of throw up into the toilet. By now it was all bile. Myrtle hovered nearby, looking concerned, while Draco gripped the rim with white knuckles. He had tried hating you, applying teachings from his parents that he no longer believed, told himself you were  _ plain, weak, worthless.  _ But then your laugh would play on repeat through his head, and his face felt hot all over again.

_ Hey,  _ his brain whispered.  _ Do you think your face is as hot as the boiling potion you poured on her? _

He threw up again.

Draco knew that he hadn’t  _ actually  _ poured it on you. But he had led to the actions that caused it to fall, which was enough to blame himself. He had cast a quick  _ Scourgify  _ to clean up the draught, but already your body had been covered in blisters and boils and  _ robes melting to your skin _ -

More vomit.

Woodward had carried her off to the hospital wing, and half the class had shot him such heated glares he was half expecting to be engulfed in flame. But instead he was here, shaking and crying in a toilet while a dead girl comforted him.

He felt shame pouring over him in waves. This is exactly why he hadn’t wanted a soulmate. As soon as he realized what he had pledged his life to, what he had to do, he decided that he wouldn’t pull anyone else in. You seemed genuinely kind, and he recalled you standing up for a child from a house that wasn’t your own. The idea of pulling someone like you into a life like his own made his tremors worsen tenfold.

It was halfway into dinner that Draco had finally recovered enough to leave, and though he had absolutely nothing left in his stomach at this point, he felt far too queasy to eat. Instead Draco made his way to the infirmary. Just as he was about to reach the door, McGonagall came out. She said nothing, but her eyes were cold as ice when she saw him. 

Madam Pomfrey was unpleasantly surprised by his presence, and refused to let him see you. Draco had to swallow his pride and tell her he was here to apologize, and he watched her expression soften by a fraction. “I don’t even know if she’s awake. She’s been out all day,” Madam Pomfrey explained as they entered the infirmary. “Good evening, Y/N. How are you feeling? Any pain?”

“I’m fine,” he heard you grimace. He grimaced too when he heard the pain in your voice. “‘S painful, though.”

“I’ll grab you some more Pain Potion,” Madam Pomfrey said gently. As she turned to leave, Draco almost didn’t hear her telling him to behave. He was too busy staring at you.

There were bandages wrapping around both of your shoulders, down your torso, and around the upper part of your right arm. Your forearm was an angry red, and there was a bandage taped to the right side of your neck. Bernie’s Burn Cream was on the nightstand, alongside an empty potion bottle and a single flower in a vase.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” You growled, but there wasn’t much bite. You sounded exhausted despite having slept all day. It made his chest hurt.

“I-” Draco began, stopped, and then steadied himself. “I want to apologize.”

“Excuse me?” You blinked at him, faking bewilderment. “I must have fallen on the way down because for a second there I thought you said you wanted to  _ apologize  _ to me.”

He clenched his fists and made a step to go towards you, the anger that came from your teasing cracking through him like a whip. You flinched, and then grimaced again, all the fight drained out of him. Draco reminded himself that this was _ his _ fault, and you had every right to be mad at him.

He ran a hand through his hair and let out a shaky breath. Slowly, as if approaching a scared animal, he sat in the chair next to your bed. “I’m not good at this.” You snorted, but said nothing. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I’m… not particularly fond of being touched.”

“I noticed,” you murmured, and he was thankful that, despite the curiosity in your eyes, you didn’t ask. “So, what’s your punishment?”

Draco noted the fact you didn’t accept his apology, but continued. “Five weeks of detention with Snape every Saturday, and fifty points from Slytherin,” he answered, and then wrinkled his nose in disgust. “And I have to carry your book bag for you until you recover.”

You laughed, and he bristled slightly. “Serves you right,” you snorted. “I get Mr. Prissy Pureblood to be my servant. Only cost me my arms.” It was Draco’s turn to flinch.

“Despite popular belief,” he said coldly. “I’m not a fan of hurting people.”  _ Anymore _ , he added in his head.

“Could have fooled me.” There was amusement in your tone, but Draco didn’t take too kindly to being someone’s laughing stock when he was trying to be genuine.

“I can’t believe I was worried about you,” Draco snapped, standing to leave. “You’re obviously well enough to be cracking jokes.”

“You were worried about me?”

Draco froze. He hadn’t meant to admit that. Refusing to meet your eyes, his gaze trailed down to the words on your arm. He frowned. For a second, he allowed himself to feel guilty about the fact that his first words to you were so ugly, but then again, yours weren’t much better, either. He then noticed he was looking at your left arm, when he was certain they should have been on you right. “Why are they on this arm?” He asked bluntly, refusing to answer your question.

Draco met your eyes and the amusement that had been there before had been replaced by wariness. You turned both arms so that the words were no longer visible. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you stated. For a while, neither of you said anything. “Is that all you wanted, Malfoy?”

He wanted you to forgive him. 

“Yes,” he said instead.

* * *

As Draco had begun to leave, the infirmary door opened again and Rickey came in, carrying a plate of food. He saw Draco and froze. “Malfoy,” he said coldly.

“Woodward,” Draco returned, expressionless. For a second neither of them moved, seemingly sizing each other up, before Draco sighed. “Get out of my way.”

Rickey opened his mouth, but you called out to him instead. His face lit up and he hurried towards you, completely forgetting about Draco. The blond left without a second glance.

“We’ve been worried sick,” Rickey blubbered. He set the plate of food on the nightstand, and your stomach growled loudly. “The rest of them wanted to visit, but Madam Pomfrey said no visitors… I’m only allowed because I was bringing you food. And Malfoy, apparently.” There was a bitter note to his voice when he said the other boy’s name, and you couldn’t blame him.

You were… conflicted, to say the least. On one hand, the stubborn dick had seriously injured you. If he had listened to you instead of being an ass, you probably would have had the best potion in class. Now you would be staying in the hospital wing for who knows how long, and even after, you’d have to have someone carry your bags for you.

The thought of Draco following you around, visibly crossed by being reduced to a mere bellhop, did manage to brighten your spirits. And that right there was your problem. Maybe it was because he was your soulmate, but part of you wasn’t as mad as you should be. There was also the fact Draco had been  _ worried.  _ Draco Malfoy didn’t worry about people.

Your inner turmoil must have shown on your face, because Rickey shoved the food under your nose. “You look hungry,” he said, right as your stomach growled. Both of you laughed, alerting Madam Pomfrey that Rickey was still in the room. She shooed him out. He waved from over her shoulder before the door shut, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Over the next couple days your friends came to visit, which was highly protested by Madam Pomfrey, and by Friday you were well enough to leave. “I don’t know how I feel about that git walking you to class,” Rickey muttered, and Parvati nodded in agreement. “I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”

“Glad to know you have such a high opinion of me,” came Draco’s cold drawl. The three of you turned to see the Slytherin approaching, sneer plastered on his face. “I’m not going to hex her in the middle of the corridor.”

“Right, you’ll just wait till you’re in class,” Rickey snapped. Before the fighting could escalate, Lavender and Lacey came out of the portrait hole, and you all made your way to Transfiguration. Rickey took your bag at the door. Without another word, Draco turned and went on his way to whatever class he had next. “He’s a rude one, isn’t he?” Rickey muttered. “Didn’t even give you a proper goodbye.”

“Do you expect anything proper from a Malfoy?” you replied. 

“I suppose not,” he grinned. “Malfoy’s don’t practice etiquette, they probably have lessons in snobbery.”

The rest of Friday passed in the same manor: Draco carried your bag to class without speaking, Rickey took it at the door, and then the both of you carried on without speaking. You would have been happy to see his embarrassment, but since it was probably because he had to be seen with you, it instead left an uncomfortable burning feeling in your stomach.

The weekend was spent catching up on missed notes and unexcused assignments. Nothing of interest happened until late Sunday, when Lavender announced that she had started dating none other than Ron Weasely. 

“I thought Hermione was his soulmate?” Parvati gawked. “I mean, I was never sure, but…”

“She keeps her words hidden,” said Lavender. Your group was in the courtyard watching some second year Hufflepuffs play Exploding Snap. It was chilly, and Rickey had put an arm around you to help the both of you stay warm. “Ron said that she doesn’t really believe in the whole soulmates thing, so we figured we could give it a go.”

“I always kind of assumed you  _ had  _ to date your soulmate,” Rickey said. “Oh, and good for you.”

“Thank you.”

“I don’t think you have to.” Parvati chirped. “I mean, soulmates don’t have to be romantic. They could be platonic. I think as long as you aren’t, you know, distant from them you’ll be okay.”

“Distant?” you echoed. 

“Yeah, like,” Parvati stopped, fiddling with her dark hair as she thought. “Like when you were all cranky after you met your soulmate. When you avoid them you get all these negative effects. Having them part of your life makes your soul all happy.

“But when it comes to romance… I don’t think you have to date only your soulmate. We’re teens! We’re bound to sleep around,” she paused to waggle her eyebrows and Lacey giggled from behind a gloved hand. “You can fall in love with people who aren’t your  _ other half.” _

Rickey’s arm tightened around you, but you were far too lost in thought to analyze it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh boy, im super excited for the next couple chapters >;3


	6. Chapter 6

“Today we’ll be taking notes. Wouldn’t want anymore accidents too soon, yes?” Slughorn chuckled, but the class stayed relatively quiet. A few snickers came from the Slytherin side, but not a single word was said by the Gryffindors. “Ah, well,” the professor continued, twirling his mustache. “Page 147. Golpalott’s Third Law.”

You were seated next to Rickey, staring at the back of Nevile Longbottom’s head. There was no point in taking notes now - you had a Self-Writing quill back in your dorm room, which made copying notes far easier. Your hands weren’t technically damaged, but raising your arms hurt a fair amount. You had to have Lacey help you with putting on your robes, and if were anyone else, you would have died from embarrassment. 

You trailed your eyes over to the desk of Ron Weasely and Harry Potter. You hadn’t really talked to them much, if at all, and you wondered if you should. Maybe they could help you hate Draco. Convince your brain he’s a bad person. _Convince your heart, more like,_ said the small, traitorous voice in your head.

As much as you loathe to admit it, Draco had been on your mind far more than you would have liked. The way his hair looked in the moonlight, pale blonde turning almost white. The way he ran his hand through it. The fact that he had been worried about you. The way his eyes could go from cold to intense in just a second.

You had to shut your eyes before they sought him out.

He was attractive, no shame in admitting that. Anyone could see that. It was normal for you to feel physically attracted to him. Not only were you a teenager with raging hormones, but he was your  _ soulmate _ , after all. But he was also…

“Are you sleeping, Y/L/N?” Pansy snickered, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Professor, I think Y/L/N is sleeping.” You suddenly wished you had been the one to give her those boils, punishment be damned.

“Are you feeling alright?” Slughorn asked. Too many eyes turned towards you. “Do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey?”

“No, Professor.” 

Slughorn twisted his mustache, thinking. “Maybe you should,” he decided. “I wonder if you’re feeling tired because the potion that fell on you was the Draught of Living Death… a sleeping potion… yes, I think it’s best that you go see her. Malfoy, grab her things.”

“I can take them,” Rickey offered.

“No, no, we can’t have that,” Slughorn said. “Can’t have Draco shunning his work to someone else.”

Rickey looked like he’d swallowed something sour. He was probably weighing the pros and cons of letting you go with Draco versus going against Slughorn and walking you himself. “Be careful,” he whispered to you as you stood. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“Couldn’t go one class without causing a disturbance?” Draco muttered as soon as you had left the dungeon. “You’re wasting a lot of my time, you know.”

“I’m sorry, who tried to boil who?” You retorted. “Dangerous potion, too. I could have been Sleeping Beauty.”

“Who’s that?”

“Never mind.”

You had your hands deep in your pockets, looking at the ground. Silence had fallen between the two of you, and it felt… awkward. You frowned. “Are you…” Draco trailed off. You glanced over at him, but he wasn’t looking at you. He cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”

You blinked at him, shocked. Then you snorted, shaking your head. “If you’re gonna keep fucking  _ laughing  _ at me-”’ Draco started.

“No, I’m not laughing at you,” you said. “I’m just…”  _ I’m just shocked that you care enough to ask.  _ “I’m fine, honestly. Just got bored and wanted to rest my eyes.”

Draco was looking at you, his grey eyes looking intense. Calculating. Like he was trying to figure you out in his head. The moment passed, and he smirked. “So you’re just finding a reason to ditch? Suppose it’s better to walk you now, when the halls are empty. Wouldn’t want to be seen with you.”

“You’re a dick,” you said flatly. To your delight, you heard him snort from where he walked next to you. You decided you liked hearing that sound. You reached Madam Pomfrey’s door and he opened it for you. “Ah, you do have manners. I’m shocked.”

“Shut up,” Draco muttered.

Madam Pomfrey opened the door from her office. “Oh, Y/L/N. How are you? Are you in pain?” She shot Draco a dirty look and led you to one of the beds in the hospital wing.

“I’m fine,” you sighed, hopping onto the bed. Draco hovered by the doorway. “I was dozing off in class and Professor Slughorn wanted me to get checked up on.”

“Did he have to send him with you?” Madam Pomfrey whispered, and you snickered. “I want you to follow the light.  _ Lumos _ .” You followed the bright light at the tip of her wand. She checked the inside of your mouth, your ears, and strangely, the inside of your nose. You hoped there wasn’t anything unpleasant for her to see. “You’re definitely feeling the effects of the potion. Nothing too serious. You’re lucky the potion wasn’t ready yet,” Draco flinched. “You’ll find it harder to stay awake, but that’s it.”

Madam Pomfrey sent you on your way. Instead of walking back to the dungeons, you and Draco walked to your next class and waited outside of the classroom until everyone started leaving and your group of friends joined you. 

“Still alive?” Rickey panted, and you suspected he ran here all the way from potions.

“Obviously,” Draco sneered, dumping your bookbag into his arms and turning to walk to whatever class he had next.

“Rude,” Rickey huffed, but you could barely hear him over the hammering of your heart.

Through November, Draco continued walking you to class. It was December now, and Madam Pomfrey had removed the bandages. Draco was relieved from his duties, something you felt kind of down about. You didn’t really talk all that much, but it was nice to at least have him around. Now, though, you never ran into him.

“I say good riddance!” Rickey cried. The Gryffindors and Huffelpuffs were all huddled in the greenhouse for Herbology. It was Wednesday, and the glass of the building was frosted over. Blankets of snow had fallen on the ground and you had broken out the enchanted scarf Lacey had gifted you last Christmas. It was always warm, and because of this, your friends would always huddle close to you whenever you wore it.

“He wasn’t all bad,” Lacey mumbled. Her face was buried in your neck, enjoying the warmth. “A little rude, but not horrible.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rickey said. “I still don’t trust him.”

“You’re just jealous,” Lacey giggled.

“What?” You and Rickey yelled in unison. Lacey laughed even harder.

“What’s so funny?” Parvati asked, joining the group. You looked around for Lavender, and she rolled her eyes. “Don’t even bother,” she muttered darkly. “She’s with Ron.” You peeked over her shoulder to see her and Ron hand in hand, standing with Harry and Hermione.

“Oh she looks  _ murderous, _ ” you elbowed Lacey. “Might have to save Lavender before Hermione guts her.”

“I wonder who will kill her first,” Lacey whispered back. “Hermione or Parvati.” Both of you giggled until Professor Sprout entered the greenhouse, and the lesson began. You were repotting yellow plants with pink, snapping heads, and if you didn’t want to lose a limb, you had to pay close attention.

By the end of the lesson, a Hufflepuff boy had been rushed to the hospital wing after he had lost a finger, and Sprout had asked Rickey to escort him. “Why does he need me?” Rickey complained as he gathered his things. “He lost a finger, not a leg.”

As soon as he left, Parvati had managed to drag Lavender away from Ron so the four of you could talk. “Are we all going home for the holidays?” Parvati asked. Everyone nodded. “I have an idea. We should have a girls night.”

“Don’t we have those every night?” Lavender complained, and Parvati sent her a dirty look. 

“You can spend one night away from Ronny Weaselykins,” Parvati snapped, and Lavender went red in the face. “Anyways, I was thinking about the Yule Ball we had a couple years back, and I realized Y/N never got to go. And Y/N doesn’t have an owl, either, so I wanted all of us to have a fun night together before we leave.”

“I’m in,” you said. “Where are we going to go though? The common room isn’t exactly private.”

“I know a place,” Parvati grinned. “Don’t even worry. Let’s meet up on Thursday, the second to last day.”

“Why the second to last day?” Lacey asked.

“Well, it wouldn’t be fun to be hungover on the train ride home.”

* * *

Draco was nearing his fucking limit.

He had no idea if Slughorn would give the bottle of poisoned mead to Dumbledore, and admittedly, he didn’t expect it to work. Instead, he spent every second of free time in the Room of Requirement, trying desperately to get it to work.

Borgin’s instructions, he thought, were a load of shit, until he managed to get a glass through it with minimal cracking. This was progress, but he didn’t know if it was  _ enough. _

He was fucking terrified. Any minute that wasn’t spent working on the cabinet was spent in Myrtle’s bathroom losing his mind. His hands shook more than ever, and he barely slept. Every night he stayed up, finishing the homework he didn’t do during the day. Even when he didn’t have work, he stared blankly at the ceiling, wishing it would fall through and crush him. 

It didn’t help that whenever he did sleep, his dreams were either plagued by nightmares or you. More than once he had woken up, heart threatening to beat out of his chest, replaying snippets of the way your body twisted in his bed; the way you said his name; the feeling of your hands running up his chest… he honestly had started preferring the nightmares. At least a dream of his mother dying a painful death didn’t make him so  _ frustrated. _

Pansy had remarked that he looked terrible. He wasn’t surprised.

Draco knew what was waiting for him at home. His house had always been cold and empty, but now it was still cold but so  _ full.  _ Full of Death Eaters and screaming and hopelessness. Draco couldn’t decide what he hated more - being tortured, torturing others, or always having to keep the walls in his head from crumbling. It was exhausting. If he didn’t have anything ready to present to the Dark Lord... 

Today was one of the last days he had to work. It was past curfew, and after he had decided he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, he slipped out of the Slytherin common room and made his way to the Room or Requirement. What he didn’t expect was to see a door already there with you coming out of it.

You stumbled and found your balance, but just barely, laughing to yourself. You waved to other people he assumed were still in the room, and as the door closed, you finally saw him.

Draco’s heart beat uncomfortably loud in his ears.

Your cheeks were flushed red and you were smiling from ear to ear. It looks like you had put on makeup and did something with your hair, but Draco couldn’t focus on that. He was more focused on the short, long sleeved, dark red dress you were wearing. His eyes darted from your hips to your thighs to your chest before finally landing on your face again.

“Dra- I mean… Malfoy,” you slurred, obviously under some kind of influence. You stumbled again and Draco reached out to help you. You gripped his arm like a vice, steadying yourself. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he murmured. You giggled drunkenly and it made his heart skip a beat.

“I was having a fun night with my friends,” you said, interrupted by a yawn. “But I’m really tired, so I told them I was going back to the dorm.” 

“I’ll walk you back. You’ll end up passed out in the corridor otherwise,” Draco sighed. He really did want to work tonight, but it turns out the room was occupied. “Was Woodward with you?”

Thankfully, you were too drunk to pick up on the jealousy in his voice. “No, Rickey is too much of a goody-goody,” you smiled up at Draco. How did he not realize how short you were compared to him? “Would have spoiled the fun. I didn’t get to go to the Yule Ball,” you added urgently.

“And that has to do with this how?” Draco asked.

“Parvati felt bad. Wanted me to have a fun night. Me an’ Lacey an’ Lavender an’ Parvati all-all came down here to hang out before holidays,” you stumbled while you walked, and Draco barely managed to catch you before you ate shit. “Thanks. I don’t have an owl either… sending letters will be hard.”

Draco pulled one of your arms over his shoulder. He tried not to focus on how good it felt to have you pressed up against his side. You were humming a song to yourself, and rested your head on his shoulder. Suddenly you stopped, and Draco froze as you nuzzled into his neck. “You smell good,” you murmured. 

“Oh,  _ Merlin, _ ” Draco breathed. He felt your breathy laugh on his neck and the arm around your waist twitched. He was suddenly overcome with the desperate urge to slam you up against the wall and kiss you just like he did in his dreams. Draco felt your lips against his neck and he was about to  _ lose his fucking mind _ \--

Suddenly you shot away from him as if he had burned you. “What?” Draco asked stupidly, blaming it on the lack of blood flow to his brain. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, your bottom lip jutting out. “You… you don’t like being touched. ‘M sorry, I forgot. I can get back on my own, you don’t have to walk me.”

_ Oh.  _

Draco stared at you. His whole chest felt warm. He was reminded again how kind and considerate you were. Even in your drunken state, you were still trying to avoid making him uncomfortable. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. He could feel himself smiling, and he allowed himself this one moment to be soft. You wouldn’t remember this anyways. “It’s fine. I have no problem telling you when I’m uncomfortable.”

“You sure?” You whispered. Something in his chest twisted uncomfortably.

“Yes,” he said softly. He reached out to you. “Come here, Y/N.”

You beamed up at him, and he snaked his arm around your waist as your arm hung over his shoulder. You continued humming happily, head on his shoulder. Draco tried to memorize the feeling of you pressing up against his side. Far too soon they reached the portrait hole that lead to Gryffindor’s tower. You opened your mouth to say the password, before turning to Draco. “Cover your ears,” you whispered. Draco rolled his eyes, amused, and covered them. 

The portrait opened, and there stood Rickey Woodward. 

“Oh no,” you babbled. “‘M busted.”

“Woodward,” Draco greeted coolly, suddenly glad he no longer had his arms around you. “You should keep a better eye on your housemates.”

Woodward said nothing, sliding his eyes past Draco and onto you. Draco watched him look you up and down and clenched his fists to avoid striking him. “Y/N,” The brunet growled. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Shut uuuuup,” you groaned. “You can wait till morning. No yelling. Goodnight Draco.” You stumbled as you climbed into the portrait hole, both boys reaching out to steady you. Woodward shot Draco a dirty look.

“Goodnight,” Draco returned, and he turned and walked back towards the dungeons. He heard the portrait swing closed, and finally let himself let out a long, shaky breath. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he said to no one in particular.

“Good luck, dear,” responded a painting on the wall.


	7. Chapter 7

Parvati was right about not wanting to be hungover on the train. Yesterday was horrible. The hangover paired with your persistent grogginess made it extremely hard to focus, and before you knew it, you were packed and on the train ride home.

Lacey, Parvati, and you were all in the same compartment. Lacey had bought you all snacks from the trolley, and you were enjoying a chocolate frog when the compartment door opened and Rickey came in. “I need to talk to you,” he grumbled and plopped into the empty seat next to Parvati.

“Oh, I was waiting for this,” Lacey sighed sarcastically, leaning her head on her shoulder. “So very excited.”

“You’re all so stupid!” Rickey yelled, Parvati groaned from next to him. “Sneaking out is one thing, but getting drunk at school? How did you even get that? Not to mention you two let Y/N walk back  _ alone _ .”

“I’m not made of glass,” you complained, but Rickey continued as if he didn’t hear you.

“If it weren’t for Malfoy, she probably wouldn’t have made it back,” Rickey muttered. “Never thought I’d have anything positive to say about that dick.”

“Wait what?” Lacey perked up. Even Parvati, who was still feeling some of the effects of the alcohol, sat up straighter. “ _ Draco Malfoy  _ walked you back?”

“Yes,” you said, keeping your face impassive. “He saw me come out, and I was super wasted so he helped me back.”

“Why?” Parvati asked.

You shrugged. “I can’t remember that much,” you admitted. “I think he helped me out so I wouldn’t snitch on him for being out after hours.” You tried your best to keep from shifting uncomfortably. Lacey’s eyes were twinkling, and for a second you thought she was going to call your bluff.

“Wonder what he was doing out after hours,” Lacey said instead. You let out a very small breath of relief.

“Probably something evil,” Parvati said, leaning her head against the window again. Rickey nodded in agreement. “Also, Padma and I got the alcohol. Don’t ask how. Now please, can we be quiet?”

As if on cue, the door opened again and there stood Padma Patil. “Parvati have you-” Parvati cut her off with a groan. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Still hungover,” you responded. “Somehow.” Parvati gave a weak thumbs up.

Padma snorted. “Did you try that spell again?” Another thumbs up from Parvati. “Right. Did you think that was going to work? Last time Parvati and I got wasted, she tried using a spell to cure her hangover. It didn’t work and made it worse,” Padma explained to the rest of you. “Hand on. I still have some Anti-Hangover Potion, I think.”

Padma ducked out for a second. Lacey offered Rickey a cauldron cake as a peace offering, and then Padma was back with a bottle of dark green liquid. “Here you go,” she handed it to her sister who eyed it suspiciously. “I know it looks bad, but it helps, I promise. Anyways, have you seen Lavender?”

“She’s probably with Ron,” Lacey responded. “Haven’t seen her since we left. Chocolate frog?”

“No thank you,” said Padma. “Let me know if you see her. Also, Parvati, you should probably take a nap while you wait for that to kick in.”

“That was my plan from the start,” Parvati snapped. Padma laughed and left. “Now, are you lot going to be quiet or do I have to kick you out?”

“We’ll be quiet, Professor Patil,” you whispered. Lacey laughed until Parvati shot her a dirty look, and she settled into your side again. Rickey stood to close the curtains so it was darker, and then pulled out a book whose pages seemed to glow faintly in the dark. Lacey seemed to be content snuggled next to you, and you peaked at the landscape through a crack in the curtains. The warmth next to you reminded you of Draco.

You hadn’t been lying when you said you didn’t remember much. You remembered just enough for you to want to melt into a blushing puddle, though. You remembered how warm he had felt, especially the arm around your waist; you remembered how good he smelled; you remembered how fucking  _ soft  _ he sounded when he said your name. But your favorite memory was him smiling.

You had only seen him smirk, or sneer, and you realized he was extremely handsome when he smiled genuinely. Unfortunately, you only remembered small pieces of that night, so you had no idea what you had done to get him to smile like that. You couldn’t recall why he had been saying your name, just that it made the butterflies in your stomach go batshit crazy.

You were suddenly glad for the darkness, because you could feel your face burning. The darkness also helped lull you to sleep, and you smiled knowing the next time you woke up, you’d be with your parents.

* * *

After your parents nearly hugged you to death and Lacey made you swear to keep in touch, you were finally on the car ride home. 

You knew your parents would be grilling you for details about your soulmate and school in general, but they usually let you unpack before the interrogation started. Once you were home, your father helped you get your trunk up to the loft where your bedroom was, gave you a quick kiss on the top of your head, and then went back downstairs to help your mom with dinner.

As soon as he left you flopped backwards onto your bed. It still smelled fresh, though that was most likely because your mother washed your sheets for you before you got home.

Your room was small, but not tiny. There was a tapestry above your bed with the zodiac wheel, and the stars behind it twinkled like the night sky. That was Rickey’s present to you last year. On the wall, you had pinned up pictures of you and your friends from the previous years, and a couple of your family. There were two large windows opposite of your bed, a closet pushed into the corner, and a small desk with a lamp and broken quills. Your room was full of potted plants and maybe a little cluttered, but it was cozy.

You began unpacking your trunk, throwing your dirty clothes into a hamper by the door. You stacked your school books on your desk, but kept supplies you wouldn’t need inside the trunk and rolled it so it was at the foot of your bed. You had just changed out of your school robes and into something comfortable when there was a knock at your door.

“Dinner’s ready,” your mother said through the door.

“I’ll be right out,” you responded. You threw on a sweater with the Gryffindor lion on it and then went down the stairs to join your family. As expected, the second you sat down, they started asking questions about your school year. They were delighted to hear that your grades had improved, and that you had finally started talking to people other than your inner circle of friends.

“So no special permissions from Hogwarts?” Your father said hopefully. 

“Nope,” you sighed sadly. Your father relaxed in his chair. “Professor McGonagall said that I’ve made good enough progress that it won’t be necessary.”

Your fourth year at Hogwarts had been one of your worst. McGonagall was the only adult you had confided in about why your grades were so abysmal, and she had managed to grant you temporary rights to use magic outside of school as long as you only preformed magic on your property with no Muggles nearby. She had suggested you work on non-verbal magic, and by the time your fifth year rolled around, you were marginally better at spell work.

She had extended those permissions to last for breaks during fifth year, too. While your grades had gone up, you were still pretty bad when it came to casting spells in front of others. However, you had put even more effort into practicing, and now you had left behind the crippling anxiety you got in classrooms. In addition, you were extremely skillful when it came to casting a majority of spells without words and, in some cases, without a wand.

“Oh thank god,” your mother said, relieved. “I was getting tired of replacing furniture so often. Any updates with Draco?”

You poked at your food, frowning. “Not really,” you lied. Somehow, you don’t think your parents would be too happy to find out about your drinking habits. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to pursue him.”

“Because of the rumors?” Your father asked kindly and you nodded.

“Well, I’ll be honest, you didn’t paint the best picture of him,” your mother smiled, resting her hand on top of yours. “But I think it’s worth talking to Draco about. Ask him about the rumors. Try and see if he’s changed.”

“He has,” you said quickly, and then flushed. “Kind of.”

Your parents exchanged knowing looks. “Whatever you decide to do, we’ll support you,” your mother affirmed.

“And if he hurts you, I’ll show him how us normal people deal with conflict,” your father added, cracking his knuckles threateningly. You caught your mother's eye and both of you dissolved into laughter. “What? You don’t think I would?”

A couple days after being back home and a couple days before Christmas, your family made the trip to Diagon Alley so you could do Christmas shopping for your friends. Your parents were also planning on renting an owl during the holidays. They wanted you to stay in contact with your friends but refused to get you an owl for yourself. “Far too noisy,” your mother told you. “And messy.”

“Right,” your father said while he hurried you and your mother into the Leaky Cauldron. “Your mum and I are going to go to Gringotts. You can go buy one of your friends something, then we’ll come back and give you more spending money. Do you know what you’re getting them?”

“No,” you admitted.

“Oh boy,” your father groaned. “Be quick, will you? There’s a soccer match I really don’t want to miss tonight…”

You parted ways, and immediately went to Weasely’s Wizard Wheezes. It had opened up earlier this year, and as expected, it was crowded. There was a variety of items, ranging from potions to make your pimples disappear and a violently pink section of products made for witches. You grabbed each of your friends a pair if Extendable Ears, some glow in the dark bubble gum, a Patented Daydream Charm in the form of a necklace for Parvati, and a Decoy Detonator for yourself when you saw the Pygmy Puffs in the corner.

“Aren’t they lovely?” said a witch in dark orange robes. She was cooing at the pink and purple puffs. You didn’t see the appeal, but you remembered Lavender talking about them with Ginny Weasley, and had just enough to get one for her, too.

By the time you left, you still needed a gift for Rickey and Lacey, but you only had a few Sickles and a handful of Knuts in your bag. Thankfully, your parents arrived, and you bought Rickey a book about protection charms (because honestly, he was terrible at them) and some Weightless Wrapping Paper from Flourish and Blotts, and a beautiful emerald green cloak that matched Lacey’s eyes.

It was pretty late in the day, but your father still needed to rent an owl. He entered into Eyelop’s Owl Emporium, and when you went to follow, your mother grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into The Magical Menagerie, a shop that sold other magical and non-magical creatures. “We decided that for your birthday, we’d let you choose an animal from the shop,” your mother looked at what looked to be a giant purple toad. “Within reason,” she added.

You ended up buying a Siamese cat who had a certain twinkle in her eyes. Just as you were leaving, you saw a familiar blond head of hair disappearing down Knockturn Alley. 

Knockturn Alley was a dangerous place. Your parents had learned early on that children shouldn’t be allowed to enter from wizard families. You wondered briefly what business Draco could possibly have there, but your parents had swept you away towards the Leaky Cauldron before you could even consider investigating.

* * *

“I hate this bloody owl,” your father hissed as Egbert, a large tawny owl that he had rented, snapped his beak while your father untied the letter from around his leg. It was Christmas, and your house was alive with the scents of turkey cooking in the oven and the hot chocolate under your nose. “Here, it’s for you,” your father said, handing you the envelope. Egbert bit his finger and then flew to the top of the tree.

It was a letter from Lacey. During the days leading up to Christmas, you had sent and received letters and presents to and from your friends. Parvati had sent you an Absolute Darkness sleeping mask (“I might actually end up borrowing this,” she wrote) and some delicious chocolate. Rickey had sent you a sweater he had sewn, and while it was slightly sloppily made, you adored it nonetheless. Lavender had sent you a necklace with a small heart on it and a letter complaining about how Ron hated his necklace, and then another letter thanking you for the Pygmy Puff.

Lacey had been one of the only ones you kept close contact with, and you opened her letter, excited to see what she thought of your gift.

_ Dear Y/N, _

_ Thank you so much for the cloak! It’s beautiful. I love it. My mum does, too. Keeps asking if she can borrow it. I think if I let her, I’ll never get it back. _

_ I’m happy to hear about your cat! I think Salt is a wonderful name. Everyone puts way too much thought into names, I think. Nevile named his toad Trevor, and I think that’s brilliant. _

_ Anyways, I got a collar for Salt! My mum enchanted it. It has a protection spell so no one can curse her or anything. I would be heartbroken if anything happened to her. I hope you know that Salt is our cat now. Everyone in the dorm will love her! _

_ I’m sorry about the headaches, by the way. And the stomach aches. If it’s not your diet, maybe it’s a soulmate thing? Maybe you should send him an owl. See how he’s doing. _

_ P.S: Egbert bit my finger, but I think that’s how he shows love. _

Enclosed in the letter was, indeed, a collar. It was dark grey with a black gem at the front. You called over your cat, who stopped swatting at the ornaments on the tree and trotted over to you. You slipped the collar around her neck. Salt headbutted your hand, asking for attention.

You scratched under her chin and then felt the pain hit you like a train.

You definitely downplayed the pain when you wrote to Lacey about it. It was more than just an ache. Your head felt like it was splitting itself apart, and when your stomach began to hurt, it felt like you couldn’t stand. It left you clammy and shaky and panicked. You hated it.

“Oh dear,” you mother cooed. She took the hot chocolate from your hands. “Why don’t you go up to your room, sweetheart? We can finish up later.” You wanted to open your mouth to apologize, but you feared you might vomit. Instead you just nodded and stumbled your way up the stairs with Salt following close behind.

They hadn’t been this bad at the start, but as time went on, they only got worse and worse. Muggle medicine did nothing, and your parents had been considering a trip to St. Mungos before you convinced them it was just stress from the homework you had to complete. You didn’t think they believed you, but they left it alone.

You curled into a ball on your bed and decided you would kill Draco Malfoy for this.


	8. Chapter 8

It turns out you didn’t have to worry about killing Draco Malfoy, because he already looked dead.

You had seen him only briefly from across the dining hall and the sight had made you drop your spoon in your porridge. Draco looked  _ horrible.  _ He had dark circles under his eyes and his face looked paler than usual. He didn’t laugh, or smile, or even talk to his friends. He didn’t eat the whole meal.

You had never written Draco a letter. Every time you sat down to start one, you felt an overwhelming feeling of dread. What if writing a letter got you or your family on some sort of… list?  _ Or maybe Draco would get in trouble for writing to a Muggleborn _ , you thought bitterly. You got the same feeling of wrongness when you thought about telling your friends about who your soulmate was, and if you had learned anything, it was to trust your gut.

You were worried sick. The two of you weren’t… friends, exactly. But you still cared about him, soulmate or not. “Stop looking over there,” Lacey whispered, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You’re making it a tad bit obvious. If our friends were a little more observant…”

You choked on your pumpkin juice.

Parvati and Lavender both looked at you. “You alright?” Parvati asked. Rickey tore his eyes away from the book you had gotten him for Christmas.

“Yes,” you lied. “Lacey just stepped on my foot. We can talk about this later,” you added in a whisper to Lacey, and she nodded.

Your worry for Draco had been momentarily forgotten. All day you were anxious and on the urge of panicking. During potions you had to actively try to not look at Draco, and because of this, you nicked your finger while cutting up some fairy wings. Rickey sent you a worried glance but didn’t say anything.

Your poor performance continued throughout the day. In Charms you accidentally hit Terry Boot with the Shooting Spell you had been practicing. You spilled ink on your robes while taking notes in Transfiguration. Snape had chastised you for not paying attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but you were far too nervous to feel embarrassed.

Finally by the end of lessons, you dragged Lacey to an empty corridor. “What did you mean I was being obvious?” You blurted out, and she looked amused.

“Well,” she began. “You didn’t want to tell us who your soulmate was, correct?” She waited for you to nod, which you felt was redundant. “But given the words on your arm and the way you kept glancing at the Slytherin table… I would bet my wand that your soulmate happens to be a Slytherin.”

“Oh,” you said, trying not to sound too relieved. “I thought-”

“Don’t worry, I don’t know who it is,” Lacey giggled. “But I am very curious. So I suggest you stop giving me hints.” 

Back in the common room, Salt has proved to be very distracting. As soon as she came down the steps from the dorms, Parvati and Lavender had given up on their Transfiguration homework and began playing with your cat. “She’s adorable,” Parvati said, scratching under her chin. “You didn’t tell me she was this cute.”

“She has to meet Squiggle!” Lavender said suddenly. She sprang up from the floor to go get Squiggle, the Pygmy Puff you had given to her. Salt pounced on Parvati’s forgotten quill.

“I don’t see what the fuss is about,” Rickey sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Should have told me you were getting a cat, I would have gotten my medicine.”

Salt abandoned the feather and sprang into your lap, purring. “I think you’re jealous,” you teased. “You should get a toad or something.”

“So Salt can eat it? I don’t think so,” Rickey muttered, trying to look unbothered by Salt but still giving her wary glances. Just then Lavender came back down with her violently pink Pygmy Puff. You hoped Salt wouldn’t eat it, because Squiggle was fucking  _ expensive. _

* * *

It was your first day back at the castle and already you were breaking rules.

To be fair, you did try and sleep. Salt was warm and curled up on your chest, her purring relaxing you into the comfortable blankets of your four poster bed. You could hear the soft snores coming from Parvati’s bed, and the sound of Squiggles walking around his cage wasn’t loud enough to be disturbing. You had everything you needed for prime sleeping conditions.

However, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t. It was as if the quiet, sleeping halls of Hogwarts were calling to you. For the last month or so of school, you had been too groggy and tired from your injury to go out and explore. You missed the view from the Astronomy Tower. You grabbed the watch Rickey had gifted to you (“Maybe now you’ll get back before curfew,”) and saw that it was one am. Maybe it was too late to go out?

Salt made an unhappy sound as you moved her to the foot of your bed. She started at you for a second before tucking her tail over her nose and letting out a little huff. You threw on a sweater, slipped on your shoes, and grabbed your jacket off of the top of your trunk. It was still chilly in the castle, the cool winter winds of January persuading you to double back and grab your scarf for extra warmth. After checking that your wand was still in your pocket, you made your way down the stairs and into the common room.

The Fat Lady was snoring as you pushed the portrait hole door closed, thankfully not woken up by your late night escapades. The castle’s corridors were silent enough to hear a pin drop. The sound of your feet hitting the ground sounded like gunshots in your ears, but the threat of getting caught made an involuntary smile come to your lips.

You arrived at the top of the steps almost too soon. The heavy oak door made no sound as you pushed it open, but your heart still leapt to your throat when you saw a familiar silhouette sitting on the balcony.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked quietly, hoping your voice didn’t betray your nerves. Draco craned his neck back to look at you, his hair and the column of his neck glowing in the moonlight. You swallowed.

“Something like that,” he muttered. He turned back towards the school grounds. You sat down a good distance away from him and pushed your legs through the gaps of the bars so they could swing freely. Silence fell between you that was neither comfortable nor awkward, and you almost didn’t want to break it. You saw him shiver in your peripheral vision.

Draco was wearing nothing but a pair of plaid blue pajama bottoms and a thin grey sweater with the Hogwarts insignia on the breast. No wonder he was cold. You had three layers on, not counting your scarf, and you still felt the chill in your bones. “Here,” you said, unwrapping the warm scarf from your neck and holding it out for him. “You look cold.” His gaze flickered from between the scarf in your outstretched hand and your face. “What, too proud to wear Gryffindor colors?” you added, smiling.

He scoffed and snatched it from your hand. “I don’t need handouts,” Draco sneered, and then, as if he just registered the unnatural warmth coming from the it, stared down at the scarf. “Why is it so warm?”

“Enchanted,” you murmured. “Got it for Christmas from a friend. And it’s not a handout. Maybe it’s cursed. Maybe it’ll choke you out when you put it on,” you teased. Draco looked at you cautiously. “Christ, Draco, that was a joke. It’s just warm, I promise.”

“On a first name basis now, are we?” Draco drawled. He wrapped the scarf around his neck loosely as if he thought it would try and murder him any second. You observed that he had a trembling hand grasping the end of it, and you hoped he was appreciating the warmth.

You pulled your jacket closer to your body. “Well, that’s what friends do,” you pointed out. Draco tensed up. “They also walk each other back to their common rooms when one of them is drunk. Never got to thank you for that.”

“What, you think that because I helped you back, we’re friends now?” Draco snapped.

“You could have let me pass out in the hall,” you shot back. “No one would have blamed you or known that you even saw me.”

He fell silent. “Do you… remember anything?” Draco said almost nervously. The venom had drained from his voice, but when you looked at his face, it was expressionless. His eyes were trained on the horizon.

“Not really,” you sighed, not telling the entire truth. “Bits and pieces, but it’s pretty hazy.”

Draco nodded but didn’t respond. He was fiddling with the end of the scarf and he hid half his face into it. The scene was so unfairly cute that you had to force your eyes to the stars before your heart gave out. You had never been particularly skilled at Astronomy. You knew some star formations, courtesy of your father, and tried to find them. Little Dipper, Big Dipper, Aquarius…

“How was your break?” You asked uneasily. You heard Draco inhale sharply and got the feeling that asking that was a mistake.

“That’s none of your business,” he said coldly.

“I was just-”

“Allow me to correct some of your misconceptions,” Draco sneered, his voice full of scorn. “We are not friends, and I don’t want any of your fucking  _ concern.” _

“Who said I was concerned?” you retorted. You absolutely were, but if he was going to be a dick about it, you wouldn’t tell him that. “Draco-”

“Don’t call me that,” he growled. Draco ripped off the scarf and threw it down on the ground next to you. No one spoke for a second. “You should go,” he said finally.

“Fine,  _ Malfoy, _ ” you hissed and got to your feet. “You can keep the scarf. I don’t want you to freeze. And before you say anything,” you added when you saw his expression twist. “Consider it payback for helping me. You can give it back when you decide to stop being a total dick.” Without another glance, you turned and left. You should have just stayed in bed with Salt.

* * *

Later that night, Draco Malfoy laid in bed, wrapped around the impossibly warm scarf that smelled like you, sleeping soundly for the first time in weeks.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, life got kinda hectic! here's the next update :)

January had been flying by, your teachers showing absolutely no mercy when it came to piling up homework. Thankfully between all the homework and Lavender’s relationship drama, you almost had no time to think about Draco. The few nights where you felt the need to return to the tower were spent alone, wishing you hadn’t given him that stupid scarf.

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” Lavender blubbered. “Why do I still feel so bad? I’m the one who ended things.”

“You were in love, darling,” Lacey cooed. Parvati shot you a skeptical look over Lavender’s shaking shoulder, and you tried not to laugh. Your group of friends had been in the common room in the seats by the fire when Parvati hauled a sobbing Lavender through the portrait hole. She had seen Ron wipe some snow off of Hermione’s shoulder and burst into tears, Parvati had explained, because Lavender was too busy blowing her nose to speak.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Rickey mused. Lacey and Lavender looked at him as if he had just spit on them.

“You were a little obsessive,” Parvati jumped in, attempting to save Rickey from an untimely death via teenage witch. “You can do better.” Rickey opened his mouth, probably to defend Ron, but snapped it shut when Parvati shook her head.

“Better how?” Lavender shrieked. “Better like my soulmate?” She rolled up her sweater. For the first time, you saw Lavender’s words. In a pretty, but messy font, she had ‘ _ Pass the salt’  _ written across her ribs. “How am I supposed to find them when  _ this  _ is what I’m stuck with?”

Your mind flashed back to Emily, the Slytherin girl with words on her cheek. “I’ve seen worse,” you said. Lavender shot you a dirty, watery look.

“At least yours are  _ distinctive.” _

Lacey, Rickey, and Parvati flinched. “You’d be surprised,” you returned. “A lot of people have called me a Mudblood in that exact same way.” Your tone was light, but Rickey still put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I wasn’t talking about me, anyways.”

“Sorry,” Lavender sniffled. Lacey offered her a handkerchief to wipe her face.

“Don’t worry about it. If I can be fine without my soulmate, so can you,” you smiled, reassuring Lavender that you weren’t upset. The portrait hole opened and you saw a familiar head of fiery red hair. “Rickey do you mind if we go up to the dormitory? I think Salt would cheer her up.”

“Go ahead,” Rickey said. “Don’t forget to finish Professor Slughorn’s write up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved him off, and the three girls followed you up the stairs to your room. Salt was snoozing on your bed, but as if sensing the sadness in the room, perked up and meowed. “Hello Salt,” you greeted. She meowed again in response.

All of you piled onto your bed. You leaned back against the headboard, Lacey sitting next to you, while Lavender laid face down on the bed and pet Salt. Parvati was perched on the edge. You fished your wand out of your robes and gave it a swish. A record rose and put itself on the record player. Smooth jazz music began to play in the room.

“I’m still impressed when you do that,” Lacey admitted. 

“It’s nothing special,” you responded, twirling your wand in your hand. 

“You’re avoiding your soulmate again aren’t you?” She asked quietly.

“How did you-”

She grabbed the wand from your hands and held one. “Your hands always tremble when you’re avoiding them,” she whispered. Your hands had been more shaky than usual, but you had gotten used to it. “You aren’t being mean, this time, but I can still tell.” Lacey’s head fell on your shoulder and she played with your fingers. 

“He’s not exactly pleasant,” you admitted finally.

“Maybe not.” Lacey murmured. “Remember what Parvati said? Being away from your soulmate isn’t good. You don’t have to be in love with them. Just close.” Lavender had dozed off. Parvati hummed along with the music, stroking Salt.

“Now that Lavender is asleep,” Parvati whispered. “We need to talk about Rickey.”

“What about him?”

“‘ _ What about him?’” _ Parvati mocked.

“I don’t sound like that!” You complained. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Parvati continued. She threw her long dark hair over her shoulder. “He obviously fancies you.”

“He does not!” You squeaked. Lavender shifted in her sleep. “Rickey doesn’t  _ fancy  _ me,” you continued, quieter. 

“You’re so oblivious,” Lacey giggled. “Have you seen the way he’s been acting?”

“Not you too,” you groaned.

“Whassat?” Lavender muttered sleepily. 

“Nothing, go back to sleep,” Parvati whispered. All of you stayed silent until you heard her breathing even out again. “We can talk about this later. But with Valentine’s Day coming up, I suggest you think on it.” 

“I will,” you responded quietly.

True to your word, you did think about it. Every time Rickey wrapped his arm around you or found an excuse to touch you, you’d stiffen up. You were quieter around him and teased him less than you normally would, scared that it would come off as flirty. If Rickey noticed a difference in your behavior, he didn’t mention it.

You’d never dealt with this before. Romance was an entirely foreign field to you, and you had expected it to stay that way for a while longer.

Rickey wasn’t a bad guy, per say. He had thick, brown hair and long eyelashes. His eyes were dark and warm. He was taller than you by a couple inches, and admittedly, you felt safe with him. But dear god he got on your nerves. He treated you like you were fragile and in need or protecting, even when you clearly weren’t. He insisted on taking your book bag, which you denied, because you were perfectly capable of doing it on your own, thank you. Rickey had returned to being a total tight ass about rules, too, as if you’d ever gotten caught.

He was the complete opposite of Draco Malfoy.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

* * *

During Charms, two days before Valentine’s Day, Rickey asked if he could speak to you after class. He had been silent the whole lesson, staring down at his desk as if he was trying to read the lines on the wood. Even now he had his eyes trained on his shoes. All week, Rickey had been acting weird - blushing whenever you spoke to him, stumbling over his words when you asked him to lend you a quill.... You knew what was coming.

You saw Lacey speaking to a Ravenclaw boy near the exit. “Sorry, that will have to wait,” you said quickly. “I need to talk to Lacey. Another time, yeah?”

“Oh, okay,” said Rickey, looking dejected. “See you later.”

You wasted no time getting across the room and dragging Lacey away from her conversation. “What are you doing?” she hissed, trying to wiggle out of your grip, but you didn't let her go until you were down the hall and slightly hidden behind a suit of armor. “That was rude,” she grumbled.

“I’m sorry but it was important,” you explained. “Rickey was just about to ask me out.”

“That’s good news!” Lacey said brightly. She faltered when she saw the panic on your face. “Or not..?”

“I don’t like him.” You stated. “Like, at all. He’s more like my older brother than anything.”

Lacey smiled knowingly. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?” You felt your face warm up. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go ask them out. Rickey wouldn't make a move if you were taken.”

“I… can’t,” you confessed quietly.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” You nodded glumly and Lacey pulled you into a hug. “Oh, I’m sorry, Y/N. How bad is it?”

“Bad,” you whispered. She pulled away, holding your shoulders at arms distance. She scanned your face.

“I have an idea,” Lacey said finally. “You don’t want to date your soulmate, right?” You were tempted to correct her, saying that you  _ couldn’t _ , but instead you just nodded. “And you can’t date anyone else because you like him too much.” Another nod. “Alright. For the next week, you’re going to be my girlfriend. Then I’m going to meet my soulmate and then we’ll break up. Sound good?”

“Pause,” you gawked. “What?”

Lacey’s eyes flicked over your shoulder and then back to you. “I’ll explain more later. I’m going to kiss you right now, and then we’re going to hold hands while we walk to lunch.” Before you could protest, she pressed a quick, chaste kiss against your lips. It didn’t last for long, but you still felt a few butterflies in your stomach flutter around.

As you two walked, she explained that the boy she had been talking to was her soulmate, but she hadn’t told him yet. You apologized profusely for interrupting, but Lacey waved you off. “When the whole Valentine’s thing had died down,” she whispered to you, your joined hands swinging. “We’ll break up.”

When you got to lunch you saw Rickey’s eyes flick down to your intertwined hands. “Oh,” he said. “So you two are..?”

“Yep!” Lacey chirped. Parvati looked shocked, and then  _ furious.  _ “Y/N’s soulmate is a dick, and I don’t know mine, so here we are.”

You saw Rickey’s lip jut out and to your horror, you saw his eyes get watery. “I have to go grab something,” he said, standing up from the table and fast-walking away. 

“I cannot  _ believe  _ you two,” Parvati hissed as soon as he was out of earshot. Lavender looked between the three of you confused. “I expected this much from Y/N, but not you, Lacey.”

“That’s not nice,” you protested weakly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Lacey lied. Her hand was clammy. 

“Oh fuck off!” Parvati yelled. Heads turned in the dining hall to see what was going on. “Lavender, come on. We’re leaving.” She stormed out, dragging a reluctant Lavender with her.

“What did we do?” You whispered. 

Lacey rested her forehead on your shoulder. “The wrong thing, I think,” Lacey mumbled. “But it’s too late now.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy. here we go.

You and Lacey knew you fucked up royally. Parvati and Lavender looked at you like you had killed someone, and Rickey only hung out with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. Parvati obviously knew that you two were faking it, but Rickey didn’t. You wished you had just rejected him.

It was Valentine’s Day, and all around the campus there were happy couples. The Great Hall was decorated with floating hearts and little Cupids that zoomed around the ceiling, sometimes shooting students with their little arrows. It was a Saturday, and that gave you an excuse to shut yourself in the library with Lacey to do homework. You avoided the common room at all costs to avoid the dirty looks from Parvati and the whispers from nosy housemates.

Lacey was taking it worse than you were. Whenever you brought up calling it off, she shook her head. “No, we might as well see it through,” she sniffled, wiping her eyes. “We’ll talk to them about it later. I’m sure they’ll understand.” Lacey didn’t sound sure at all.

“It’s lunchtime,” you whispered, poking Lacey’s head of curly blonde hair with the end of your wand. She had slumped over Charms notes a while ago. “Want to come with me?”

“No,” she responded miserably.

“I’ll bring you something,” you promised. “Wait outside the library. We can go eat by the Quidditch pitch and watch Hufflepuff do drills.” You saw her nod, but she didn’t look up.

You slung your book bag over your shoulder and exited the library. While walking to the Great Hall you saw a familiar head of hair sitting against the corridor wall. “Emily?” 

Emily perked up. “Y/N!” She said brightly, but her eyes were red rimmed. “I heard about you and Lacey Abbet. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” you said uneasily. Word really did spread fast around the castle. “Have you been crying?”

Emily stood and dusted off her Slytherin robes. “Yes,” she admitted. “I keep getting asked out as a joke. I wanted to go get lunch but I’m scared of going to my table…”

“You can come with me,” you smiled. “I was going to grab some food and go eat with Lacey on the Quidditch pitch. You’re welcome to join us.”

“Really?” said Emily. “I wouldn't be intruding?”

“No, no, you’re fine,” you assured. “You can come to the Gryffindor table with me.” Emily trailed after you, looking pleased.

“No one will bother me if I’m with you,” she hummed.

“Why do you say that?”

“Haven’t you heard them talking?” Emily chattered. “A lot of kids are scared of you. They say you can curse people without blinking an eye. Which is true, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t curse random people,” you protested.

“I know,” she said brightly. “But they don’t, so they’ll leave me alone.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. You had no idea that you had been getting attention or that people knew who you were. Part of you was strangely happy that word of you skills had gotten around. Maybe that’s why no one had said anything homophobic to you and Lacey. 

You entered the Great Hall and found it was only half full. “Everyone’s probably out snogging each other,” you told Emily and she giggled. A couple Gryffindor students followed Emily with their eyes but didn’t say anything. “Make yourself a plate.”

You made Lacey’s plate first. You grabbed her a cold turkey sandwich, an apple, and spooned some rice pudding on for good measure. You heard laughing coming from the other side of the room and looked up to see the Slytherin table pointing at Emily and snickering. To your surprise, Emily was glaring at them defiantly (but shaking like a leaf). “You should have been in Gryffindor.” You muttered quietly and she beamed up at you.

The dining hall doors opened, and your heart stopped when you saw Draco swagger in, hand in hand with Pansy Parkinson.

She was laughing shrilly at something he said, swatting at his chest. You dropped the spoon you had been using back into the pudding and it splashed. “Hey!” Emily complained.

“Oh shit, sorry,” you murmured. With a wave of your wand, her robes were clean again. “Come on, let’s go meet up with Lacey.”

“You didn’t make yourself a plate,” Emily observed.

“Lost my appetite,” you said darkly. Pansy pressed a wet kiss to Draco’s cheek, and before you whipped out your wand and did something regrettable, you grabbed Lacey’s plate and stormed out of the hall. 

To make your day even worse, when you returned to the library, Parvati was outside talking to Lacey in a hushed tone. As soon as she saw you approaching, she stopped. “Y/N,” she greeted coolly. Lavender stood next to her but didn’t say a word.

“Parvati,” you returned. “Are you ready to go, Lacey?”

“Oh, yes, very,” she squeaked, her face flushed red. She blinked at Emily, just noticing her. “Who are you?”

“Emily Jackson, second year.” Emily said brightly, sticking out her hand and shaking Lacey’s enthusiastically. “Y/N said I could eat with you.” 

The three of you began walking through the corridors, Emily babbling about her classes while Lacey looked down at her amused. Emily had been saying something about turning a beetle into a button when you saw the tail end of expensive looking robes disappearing up the stairs leading to the third floor.

“Hey, I think I left my wand back in the dining hall,” you said quickly. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Lacey hummed. “I’ll save you some food.”

You apologized and quickly made your way back up the stairs. You knew that it was Draco. No other student would bother spending that much money on school attire. You felt the overwhelming urge to talk to him about Pansy, even if it wasn’t the smartest idea. Your judgement was clouded by jealousy and anger. You rounded a corner and saw Draco at the end of the corridor. “Malfoy!”

He stopped in his tracks and turned towards you. “Back to last names?” he drawled. 

“Yes, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” You hissed. Draco said nothing as you strode over to him. “You still haven’t given me back my scarf.”

“You said to give it back when I’m done being a dick,” he smirked down at you. You had stopped a foot or two away from him. “I don’t think I’m quite finished with that yet.”

“Is that why you were… parading around the Great Hall with Parkinson?” 

“I wasn’t  _ parading  _ anyone around,” he said. “And even if I was, how is that any of your business?”

“You know why!” you yelled, gesturing to your arm. “I thought that might have meant something to you!”

“I’m not responsible for your misconceptions,” Draco sneered. “And you’re one to talk. Got tired of Woodward and hopped into bed with Abbet, didn’t you?”

Your brain stalled and for a moment you just blinked at him. “What?”

“I saw you kissing her,” Draco hummed. “How would your father feel, I wonder, knowing he raised-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Malfoy,” you snarled, grabbing your wand from your pocket and pointing it at him. Your hands were trembling. 

He noticed this and, with a shit eating grin, bent down until he was eye level with your wand. “Knowing he raised a  _ whore _ ,” he finished in a whisper. White hot anger cracked through you like a whip, and the next second Draco was sent flying backwards into the wall. 

You weren’t even sure what spell you had used which would have alarmed you if you weren’t so fucking angry.

“At least my father isn’t in  _ Azkaban, _ ” you spat. Draco stood quickly and pushed up his sleeves, readying his wand. You saw something dark on his forearm and with a jolt, you remembered the rumors about the Malfoy family you had heard since the battle in the Department of Mysteries.

_ “His dad came forward after You Know Who disappeared. Lucius said he was Imperiused into following him. That was obviously a lie.” _

_ “The whole Malfoy family is rotten to the core.” _

_ “I bet they’re just waiting for You Know Who to return. Draco’s father was one of his biggest supporters, after all. D’ya think the whole family joined the Death Eaters or just Lucius?” _

_ “I bet Draco plans on joining them too.” _

Your stomach dropped to the floor. Before Draco could send a spell flying back, you raised your wand. “ _ Stupefy!” _

The red beam of magic hit him square in the chest and he fell back again. You marched towards him and, with the tip of your wand, lifted the rest of his sleeve. “Don’t,” Draco pleaded, but it was too late.

There, against his pale skin, was the Dark Mark.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay! writers block is a bitch and a half

After you had seen his tattoo, you said nothing. For the first time ever your face had been completely unreadable. You had the decency to lower his sleeve, but not to undo the spell that left him unable to move, and he supposed that he deserved that. He had been completely out of line. Draco didn’t know what had even come over him. He went from telling you that his relationship was none of your concern to getting  _ jealous  _ over yours.

What a fucking hypocrite.

Pansy had let him sulk for two days before she intervened. Draco had been staring into the fire of the Slytherin common room when she appeared and dragged him up to the boy’s dormitory. Theo, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle left the room as quickly as they could after Pansy sent them a look that could kill.

“It’s her again, isn’t it?” She asked. Draco didn’t respond and only sat on the edge of his bed and hung his head in his hands.

After you had been injured, Draco wasn’t in the best mood. Before he had lost his Prefect status and the room that came with it, Pansy had walked in on him crying. He had been seconds away from hexing her before he realized who it was, and instead of teasing him, Pansy had listened to him.

Draco told her that you were his soulmate, and how  _ terrified  _ he was. You were a Muggleborn, for one. The Dark Lord had hinted that if your soulmate wasn’t at least a halfblood, the best way to sever your ties was to kill them. Draco wasn’t that dedicated and Pansy knew that. She kept most of her negative feelings to herself and instead let Draco get it out of his system, and since then, she had been Draco’s confidant about all things soulmate related.

It felt nice to have someone he could actually trust; someone who knew what was at stake. Pansy was a good friend.

But right now, he really didn’t want to talk about you with her. When he told her as much, she brandished her wand. “Really, Pansy?” Draco groaned, massaging his temples in preparation for the oncoming headache.

“Easy way or hard way.” She smiled sardonically. “You’ve been moodier than normal, and as your  _ girlfriend,  _ don’t I deserve to know about the other woman?” Draco rolled his eyes and she snickered, but her wand didn’t fall.

“I fucked up,” Draco said.

“Well, I knew  _ that  _ much,” Pansy crowed, sitting on Theo’s bed, opposite of him. “Y/N doesn’t strike me as the asshole type.”

“You’d be surprised,” Draco muttered, thinking back to your comment about his father (it was well deserved, of course). Pansy raised an eyebrow and prompted him to continue with her wand, so, with a long, deep sigh, Draco told her what had happened.

As he talked, Pansy frowned deeply. When he got to the part about you managing to stupefy him, she snorted, but her amused expression turned sour when she heard that you had seen his Dark Mark. Pansy didn’t know of Draco’s mission, but she knew that being outed as a Death Eater would be disastrous. “You were right, you fucked up,” she said, shaking her head.

“You don’t have to tell  _ me  _ that,” he snapped. Strangely, his fingers itched to reach for the scarf of yours he still had tucked away and hand under his pillow. It no longer smelled like you, but it was always warm. He wore it during the long days and nights he spent trying to fix that stupid cabinet.

“Would she tell?” 

“No,” Draco responded, far too quickly and far too sure. “I don’t think so, at least,” he added hastily. Pansy’s eyes darted down to his hands. He tucked them under his legs so she couldn’t see the tremors, but he wasn’t quick enough. 

“You need to talk to her. I wouldn’t be too happy if my soulmate called me a whore… actually, maybe I’d be okay with that. Given the correct context,” Pansy scolded.

“Gross,” Draco gagged, and she rolled her eyes at his dramatic antics. “But I’ve tried. She’s obviously avoiding me. I haven’t even heard her in class.”

“Me neither, now that you mention it,” Pansy muttered. She fell silent, scratching her head with her wand.

It was like Draco didn’t even exist anymore. He never caught you looking at him across the dining hall, instead you sat facing away from him so he could only stare at the back of your head. In Potions you were completely silent and ducked out into the hall with your friends before he could ask to have a word. At nights when he could spare the time, he went up to the Astronomy Tower, waiting for hours, but you never showed.

Draco’s need to apologize wasn’t about saving himself, he realized with a start. You would never rat him out, he was certain. But he had hurt you, and he could feel as much through the stupid soulbond you shared. He wanted- no, he  _ needed  _ to fix it.

“Find a way to get the message to her, then.” Pansy said finally. “I don’t care how.”

“Why should I?” Draco mused bitterly. “If she hates me now, it’s safer for her.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Pansy snapped. “If she wants to be herself in danger, that’s her choice to make.” Draco was taken aback at the venom in her voice. She sighed and put a hand on Draco’s knee (slowly, because she  _ knew _ ). “Draco, you deserve to have a little light in your life.”

“No, I-”

“Yes, you do,” she hissed. “When all this is over, you deserve to have something to go back to. Keeping her close gives you another reason to keep fighting, doesn’t it?” Pansy expected a response, but Draco swallowed instead. “We aren’t the good guys, but we aren’t bad either. You know we didn’t- we didn’t want this. And if you can find someone who makes all the shit in this world feel more okay and you throw it away, I won’t forgive you Draco. I won’t.” Pansy stood up abruptly and wiped her hands on her robes. “Not all of us are lucky like you,” she finished, and then quietly left the room.

Draco sat in silence for a long time, staring down at his feet. It would be selfish to be with you, right? He could never give you what you wanted. He couldn’t tell you his plans, his mission. He couldn’t hold your hand and laugh with your friends in the hall. He wouldn’t be able to pull you close in the snow and kiss your frostbitten nose. 

Pansy’s words echoed in his head.

_ “That’s her choice to make.” _

While lost in thought, his hand had wandered back to your scarf. He ran it between his fingers. As a plan formed, Draco decided that, just this once, he would let himself be selfish.

* * *

In a number of days it felt like everything you had worked so hard for had been ripped from your hands. It was almost funny how everything had played out, and maybe you would have laughed if you could.

It was all Draco’s fault.

You didn’t know how long you had sat on your bed feeling strangely calm. But it wasn’t a normal calm. This kind of feeling was heavy like warm molasses keeping you stuck to the sheets of your bed; empty like the hole that had seemingly opened in your chest. Vaguely, you wondered if you were overreacting, but you didn’t care. Surely you had heard worse before, so why was it bothering you so much?

At some point you must have drifted off, because you were suddenly jerked awake by Salt’s rapid pawing at your face. You jolted upwards, but Salt looked unbothered. She tucked her tail over her paws and stared at you as if she were judging. The windows were dark. Your stomach growled loudly.  _ Must’ve missed dinner,  _ you thought to yourself. 

It was at that moment you remembered everything that had happened during lunch with Draco and his tattoo. Your hunger quickly turned to nausea and it took everything in you not to heave.

You had always been secretly scared of Voldemort and creatures like dementors. When dementors had been at Hogwarts you had been terrified, especially after the multiple attacks on Harry Potter. You’d rather face Sirius Black himself than be anywhere close to one of those soul-sucking beasts. Parvati had managed to teach you the Patronus charm, which made you feel much better about the dementors circling the skies around you.

But there wasn’t any charm that could magic away Voldemort himself. You, as a Muggleborn, had every right to be scared. You had believed wholeheartedly that he had returned, and your parents had, too. Finding out that your soulmate had joined the wizard terrorist organization that saw people like you and your parents as animals was unfairly frightening. The adrenaline that came from dueling Draco wore off, and you stood up and began pacing quickly. You could feel the panic building up in your veins. 

You were so focused on trying to prevent a panic attack when the dorm room door swung open and in came Parvati and Lavender. “Oh, it’s you,” Parvati said disdainfully. You almost didn’t hear her over the blood rushing in your ears. Without thinking you took a couple steps back in fear. Lavender looked confused. “Ditching class today? Really?” Parvati continued.

Your back was to the wall now. A voice in your head was whispering about their covered arms. You didn’t expect Draco to be a Death Eater, not really, so who’s to say they couldn’t be Death Eaters too? Wasn’t Lavender a Pureblood?  _ They’re threats,  _ the voice hissed. Where was your wand?

It wasn’t in your robes. Did you drop it in the hall after you left Draco? Was it on your nightstand? Oh, god, you were going to  _ die.  _

Suddenly, Lacey’s hand was on your face, and you could hear her instructions. She was telling you to sit straight, to breathe, to focus on the sound of her voice. You could feel the cold castle walls on your back as you sat up. At some point you must have slumped to the floor, embarrassingly enough. Lacey wiped the tears from your face (when had you started crying..?) and slowly but surely you could feel your heartbeat slowing.

“I’m disappointed in the both of you,” Lacey hissed, turning her head to glare at the two girls behind her. Parvati and Lavender both looked shocked and slightly guilty. “You should have  _ known  _ it wasn’t normal for her to just skip class. How long were you going to let her sit here and panic? Was it really that hard to put your stupid grudges aside for one second? Honestly,” she sighed and turned back to you. “How are you feeling, dear?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. You stared at Lacey, wide-eyed, and she grimaced. “It’s happening again?”

You nodded and rested your face against your knees. Now that the panic had subsided, your head was pounding. “What’s happening again?” Lavender squeaked.

Lacey stood up and dusted off her robes. “Looks like Y/N can’t speak again. Take my hand, let’s get you some food,” she smiled encouragingly down at you as she offered her hand. If it were anyone else you would have been offended, but you took her hand without complaint. “Both of you need to stop being so horrible. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at me. I forced the fake relationship idea on Y/N.”

“But why?” Parvati spoke up finally, sounding exasperated. 

“I have my reasons,” Lacey said simply. “You guys are my friends, and you’re her friends too. This bitterness doesn’t suit the two of you.” Lavender and Parvati stayed quiet as you and Lacey left the dormitory. There was no conversation between Lacey and you while walking down to the kitchens, nor on the way back.

Rickey still sat next to you in Potions. The two of you worked in silence (not that you had much of a choice), and it made your heart ache. Strangely, you found yourself missing his nagging about rules and homework. You almost found yourself wanting to get detention just to hear him chastise you.

In Transfiguration, McGonagall looked at you sadly over her square glasses when you simply shook your head when she asked you a question. You didn’t need to explain what had happened, and she didn’t ask. When you went to her desk after class to turn in your late homework from when you had unintentionally skipped, McGonagall didn’t ask for an explanation for your tardiness. “I suggest you don’t make a habit of skipping class,” she scolded, but there was no bite to her voice. 

Over the next two days, Lavender and Parvati started warming up to you again, but Rickey was still distant. Once you could speak again, you vowed to tell him the truth. Your friends didn’t ask what had caused your voice to go away, or what made you miss class, which you were grateful for. It was already hard enough to avoid Draco completely. You wanted to look at him, to see if his bags were getting worse; you wanted to see if he was eating enough; you wanted to make sure he was okay, but you were still so upset and hurt at the same time. 

Maybe some of that was coming from Draco, though.

You were completely lost in thought that you failed to notice the small girl with green robes standing next to the portrait hole. It wasn’t until she called out your name that you realized it was Emma. “You didn’t come to lunch with me and Miss Lacey,” Emma pouted, and you smiled despite your shit week. You opened your mouth to reply and then closed it, instead rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. “It’s alright, though. Miss Lacey said something came up. But I don’t have to worry about the other Slytherins as much.”

Emma bounced on her heels, looking very pleased. “Even without you with me. I was in the common room, minding my own business, when that absolute troll Millicent Bulstrode - the one with the weird nose? - came up to me. Started saying all these rude things about me… really, she has no room to talk looking like  _ that… _ And then the strangest thing happened!” She perked up, her hair bouncing with her. “ _ Draco Malfoy  _ stood up for me.”

You blinked in surprise. Draco stood up for Emma? Last you checked, Draco didn’t care about anyone else other than Pansy and his small circle. He wouldn't stand up for someone getting bullied, especially a second year. He had eased up on picking on younger students, though you never imagined he would stand up for them. 

“See, no one wants to cross him because of his father,” Emma continued. She didn’t see the way you flinched. “Ever since then, no one has said anything to me! One girl, Maggie Everscent, even asked if I wanted to do revision with her today. Which is… oh, I need to get going! But first,” she opened her book bag and pulled out a familiar looking scarf with a note attached. “Compliments of Draco Malfoy.”

As soon as the scarf was in your hands you felt the familiar warmth, but you were more interested in the note. Somewhat nervously, you eyed the paper. It had your name written in the same fancy, looping script that was on your arm. Stupidly, your heart fluttered. You opened the note.

_ Y/N, _

_ Portrait hole, 1am. We need to talk. _

_ \- Draco Malfoy _

“Meeting up with a boy after hours… what would Miss Lacey think?” Emma whispered scandalously. If you had a working voice, you would have told her off for reading something that wasn’t meant for her eyes. But as it stood, all you could do was watch her hurry away.

As you wrapped the scarf around your neck, you felt your traitorous heart seize when you found yourself surrounded by the smell of Draco. You read the note again. Were you really ready to forgive him?

Your words from before rang in your head. 

_ “Consider it payback for helping me. You can give it back when you decide to stop being a total dick.” _


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy! longer chapter for you guys.

He could have probably kept the scarf. That little second year could have just given you the note, he thought. Draco was fucking freezing and no matter how far he burried his hands into his jacket pockets, they still felt numb.

Draco really couldn't afford to do this. He had justified taking tonight off in order to talk to you by promising to work as much as humanly possible tomorrow (or, later today, more like). Between that, the biting cold, and his nerves, Draco was feeling quite anxious. What if you didn’t come out to talk to him?

If you didn’t, he would let you go. Probably.

He jumped at the sound of the portrait hole door opening. “What is it with you lot?” The Fat Lady murmured sleepily. Draco steadied himself and wiped his clammy hands on the front of his coat. Everything was going to be fine. You were standing just beyond the opening in the common room, and for a second, Draco  _ almost  _ wished he was sorted into Gryffindor. The room looked cozy and inviting with a blazing fire still crackling even late at night. In contrast, the Slytherin common room was cold, reminding him of home. At first, it was a welcome feeling, but now it made him feel nauseous.

Your hair was messy, as if you had just rolled out of bed. You looked tired, but your eyes were wary and awake. They flickered down to his arm and back up to his face. Draco felt himself frown. The scarf was wrapped around your neck snuggly, and despite the warmth Draco knew it provided, you had a sweater and a coat on. 

“You came,” Draco said coolly, but somewhat awkwardly. You hadn’t said a word to him. He expected a greeting, maybe even a snarky remark. But instead your lips were pressed into a thin line. “Are you..?”

“She’s not going to say anything, you know,” said a voice from deeper in the Gryffindor common room. A light flickered on in the back, and there stood Lacey Abbet. She was looking over Draco, a calculating look on her face. 

He heard you sigh. He glanced over at you quickly before moving back to Abbet. “It’s you,” he drawled, keeping his voice inflectionless and cold. “What do you mean?”

“Come inside,” Abbet sighed. “You and Y/N can talk later, but there’s some things we should probably discuss first. Unless you’d rather talk out there,” she added, slightly annoyed, when Draco didn’t come inside. “It’s colder, though. You look cold.”

Draco bristled slightly, but the sound of you clearing your throat caught his attention before he could snap at her. You made a beckoning movement with your hand. Draco was skeptical, but he  _ was  _ freezing his ass off. As he climbed into the portrait hole (you offered him a hand, he didn’t take it), he wondered what Potter’s reaction would be if he saw him sprawled out in  _ his  _ territory, chumming it up with  _ his  _ housemates. It was enough to make him a bit less on edge.

However, he was still cautious. This could very well be a trap, he knew. He wrapped a hand around his wand in his pockets. Draco felt someone swat his arm and looked down to see you looking up at him, looking rather miffed. “Can you blame me?” He whispered, slightly annoyed. Draco tried to ignore how cute you looked when you pouted, and how he  _ melted. _

“I’m not going to attack you,” Abbet smiled. She waved her hand towards one of the chairs by the fire. “Come and sit. I take it you know who I am?”

“Yes.” Draco responded. He sat in the chair and was pleasantly surprised by its comfort. You took a seat on the armchair closest to the fire and stared into it. “Listen, Abbet, it’s not what you-”

“It’s exactly what I think,” She interrupted happily. “You’re her soulmate. And please, call me Lacey.”

Draco carefully hid the shock on his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb,” Lacey chided. “There’s no point.” Draco narrowed his eyes but stayed silent. Lacey sighed and rested her elbows on her knees. “Fine, I’ll tell you how I know, since you want to be difficult. No wonder Y/N is always in a bad mood… dealing with you…” He heard you snicker. Draco tightened his grip around his wand.

“I had a suspicion it was a Slytherin,” she began. “After all, your house is the one full of bigots, so that matches with the words on her skin.” Draco flinched slightly. Lacey’s eyes narrowed, and he realized it was very likely that she was watching his reactions very closely. “She also kept looking over at the Slytherin table, so that pretty much sealed it.

“But I was curious. It kept bothering me that I didn’t know. Y/N was very adamant about keeping it a secret. For a while it stumped me - and then I remembered something Rickey said,” her eyes slid over to you. “Something about you visiting her in the hospital wing after you got her sent there. At first, I thought it was a coincidence, but all the clues pointed to you. You’re the last person anyone here would want to be soulmates with, after all.”

Draco was clenching his jaw so hard that it hurt. You kicked out at Lacey’s shin in retaliation, and it made Draco feel marginally better. “Sorry, sorry, I can’t help it. I’m pretty cross with you, Draco. Y/N’s been rather upset these past couple days. I assume that’s your fault?”

“Don’t call me that,” he sneered. Lacey just smiled in return.

“Avoiding the question,” she hummed. “That’s why you came here tonight, right? To fix things.” There was a heavy silence. Before Draco could break it, Lacey was continuing. “I’m getting ahead of myself. There’s one last thing I need to tell you before you two go.”

Draco could sense a change in mood relatively easily. It had become second nature, a survival instinct. Lacey’s mood dropped significantly. One minute she had been smug and angry, but as she straightened up, Draco could sense her discomfort. She didn’t meet his eye, instead opting to look at the floor, and her hands played with the hem of her nightshirt. “Y/N and I never actually got into a relationship. Rickey was going to ask her out, and she was panicking. On Valentine’s day,” she added, and as she spoke, she sounded regretful. “I saw you in the corridor, and I thought I could kill two birds with one stone.

“I proposed the idea of a fake relationship to Y/N, and I told her it was to spare Rickey’s feelings. But really, I just wanted to confirm my own suspicions.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “After I kissed her, I saw you. You tried to hide it, but I could see the jealousy. I was happy that my theory was correct. But the aftermath was… The point is, we aren’t really together. I thought you should know.”

“You went through all that just to confirm a  _ theory? _ ” Draco asked incredulously. “You sure you’re not in Slytherin?”

“First time I’ve gotten that,” Lacey smiled, but it was empty. “But yes. And I-”

“Lacey? Who are you talkin’ to?” Draco heard a murmur come from behind him, and he recognized it as the sleepy voice of Rickey Woodward. Draco shrunk in his chair and you turned to look back at Woodward. “Oh. It’s you. Nevermind.”

You slumped back against your chair looking visibly upset. “You two better go,” Lacey whispered once Woodward retreated back up the stairs. “Don’t stay out too late. The password is warthog. You’ll have to walk Y/N back.” She ushered Draco and you towards the exit. “Don’t get caught.”

Stepping back into the chilly corridor felt like a slap in the face, but Draco was finally able to let go of the breath he was holding. It billowed out of his mouth like a cloud. In his peripheral vision, he saw you adjust your scarf to cover your mouth. Wordlessly, the two of you began walking in sync - it seems Draco was right to assume that you would know where he wanted to go.

Without your words to fill the silence, he reflected on what Lacey had told him. He had known Lacey before he knew you. She was a Pureblood, and while she wasn’t exactly rich like his friend’s families, her family was still considered to have some prestige. Her mother was a very eccentric woman, and despite the pressure from the other Pureblood families, she never raised her children to believe in Pureblood superiority. Lacey was a kind girl - “Much too kind for her status,” Theo’s mother had said a few years ago over tea - but what Draco has heard was making him rethink. 

Draco had gotten fairly good at reading people, and even better at detecting a lie. He could tell that there was something Lacey had withheld, and he was half sure he knew what exactly she didn’t want to say. But she seemed to be putting some trust in him, so for now he would keep quiet.

His feet followed the familiar path to the Astronomy tower. It felt like an eternity before he reached the sturdy door that hid the stairs from view. Draco pulled it open slowly and gestured for you to go in first. Strangely, despite you not speaking, he could hear you making a sarcastic remark about him being a gentleman.

Perhaps he knew you better than he originally thought.

Draco followed you into the stairwell. The door creaked slightly as it closed. Before Draco’s eyes could adjust to the darkness, you had cast a quick, wordless spell, and the stairs were bathed in light from your wand. The second door at the top of the stairs opened and closed quieter than the first. 

Both of you sat at the edge of the balcony. You had sat just as far away as last time. Draco tried to not be offended.

He cleared his throat awkwardly as the silence settled onto his chest. “You… can’t talk, right?” You nodded, looking just as annoyed with your predicament as Draco felt. 

“I’m not good at this,” he began, waving a hand in front of him. “This whole… talking thing. I’m worse at apologizing. And I’m even worse at letting people in.” Draco glanced over at you, but your eyes were cast towards the forest. He couldn’t tell whether that made him feel better or worse. “I don’t know where to start,” he confessed uneasily. You tapped his sleeve with your wand.

Draco swallowed. “I suppose that’s the worst of it,” he could feel his palms sweating and he wiped them on his pants. Absentmindedly he rolled up his sleeves. He saw you flinch, and something akin to self-hatred coiled tighter in his chest. “There’s a lot I can’t tell you, even if I wanted to.”  _ Which I don’t.  _ “And there’s a lot that you won’t like.”

You had your eyes on him now, but Draco stared ahead of him, steadily avoiding eye contact. “It would be so much easier if I could just show you,” he huffed in frustration. “You don’t happen to know how to perform Legilimency, do you?”

You shook your head. “Right,” he muttered. “That would be too convenient.”

"The Malfoy family is a very prestigious family," he started, words monotone as if reading them from a script. "In the Wizarding community, the Malfoy name demands respect. We are one of the richest pure-blooded families, after all."

"From a young age, pure-blood children are taught certain things - most of us, I mean. Muggles and Mud...Muggleborns," Draco corrected hastily. He couldn't look at you. "I was taught to view them as trash. Animals on the side of the road. Muggles were our oppressors, and Wizard society could only be free if... well, I suppose you know the rest."

Draco remembers when these words filled him with pride, but now they just make him feel sick to his stomach. They made him uneasy, they made a bitter taste appear at the back of his throat. He chanced a glance at you. You were staring at him intently, posture tense. 

He looked away.

"My family was one of many who supported the Dark Lord," Draco said quietly. He was very aware that he was skirting close to dangerous territory. "I didn't even realize what I was signing up for when I joined. I was stupid. So fucking  _ stupid _ ." His hand was in his hair, tugging painfully. Draco pushed a quick breath through his clenched teeth.

Why did he do this to himself? Why couldn’t his life be  _ easy? _

"I don't believe in that anymore," Draco continued, hand dropping back down behind him. He focused on the cold air. "I mean how could I? Granger is a genius, as annoying as she is, and you managed to beat me in a duel." He heard you snicker softly and he took it as a win. "But the Dark Lord... he reads minds. I've gotten fairly good at blocking him out.

"My aunt Bellatrix taught me over the summer, and then Snape. But over Christmas break I wasn't good enough, and he saw something. Nothing too damning," he added quickly, seeing the blood drain from your face. "But it was enough to-to scare me."

The confession hung in the air. Draco stared at the hands in his lap. Admitting something like that - that he was scared, he was concerned - didn't come naturally to him. His skin crawled uncomfortably. 

Being open and honest was the exact opposite of his nature, of his upbringing.

"It doesn't excuse what I said," you had your eyes trained on the horizon, seemingly lost in thought. For a second, Draco felt the air rush out of his lungs, and his heart flipped. He allowed himself a second to trace over the curve of your nose, then the dip of your cheekbones. You had a dusting of red across them. He could see a couple freckles on your temple. Before he could really think about it, he was speaking. "I thought that maybe by pushing you away I could keep you safe."

Draco didn't even know his voice could get this... soft. You turned and met his gaze, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me," he added in a hushed whisper, barely audible. He felt embarrassment rush through him like a river breaking free of a dam. Draco felt his face heating up.

“But that’s not really fair, is it? It’s not fair for me to make choices for you.”

He reminded himself of what could happen to you, what could happen to his family. The seriousness of his next words weighed down on him. The embarrassment was slowly subsiding, being replaced by something unfamiliar to him. 

“I can’t guarantee your safety. I can’t spend all my time with you, and I can’t tell you everything.” He reached out and, with a hand surprisingly steady, tilted your chin in his direction. “But despite that,” Draco said quietly, moving his hand to cup your cold cheek. “Being far from you  _ hurts.  _ Being around you makes me feel better, even when we’re mad at eachother. You feel it too, right?” You nodded your head slowly. Draco smiled for the first time that night.

“We don’t have to be anything more than friends,” he moved his thumb up and down your cheek before letting his hand drop completely. “As long as you’re around me, I feel better. And no matter what happens between us, I will do anything in my power to keep you safe.”

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was very. very hard to write. i apologize for the delay.

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you think :)


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